


The Wolf, the Girl, and the White Violin

by BadWolfeRose



Series: When Worlds Collide [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Stranger Things (TV 2016), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: All the children are my children and I will defend them, All the women are BAMFs and that's just fact, Clara is not what you think she is, El deserves happiness and so do all those kids, F/M, Five is a little prick but we love him anyway, Gen, How Do I Tag, I Blame Tumblr, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Wrote (Most Of) This Instead of Sleeping, I made a 3 way crossover bitches, I will go DOWN with ALL my ships, No Apocalypse (Umbrella Academy), No Smut, Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, Only tagging the incest bc Five and Vanya love each other, Pseudo-Incest, Slow Burn, Technically the academy are all kids but only Five and Vanya are in this part of the rewrite, The poor child has been through so much shit, There is so much found family content in this, Vanya and Five are both kids, What Have I Done, What am I doing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2020-07-12 08:37:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 33,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19943284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadWolfeRose/pseuds/BadWolfeRose
Summary: The Doctor never meant to lose control of his TARDIS and all but crash-land in a quiet little town in 1983.A young boy with extraordinary abilities never meant to jump back into the past with no immediate way of getting back to his own time. And he certainly did not expect to find himself protecting a strange young girl that reminded him of his only real companion: Vanya.Rose Tyler, Will Byers, and Vanya Hargreeves never intended to be pulled into a cruel echo of the normal world. But those things all happened to them, and the Doctor intended to do whatever he could to bring the missing people back home, return the displaced to their own time, and solve the mystery that is the puzzling Clara- a strange and clever child who seems to know much more about the extraordinary than she lets on.(Rewrite of my Stranger Things/Doctor Who crossover fics.)





	1. A Series of Impossible Events

**Author's Note:**

> I'm BACK, bitches! And I'm rewriting the fic that started it all- AND THIS TIME WITH A THIRD FANDOM! Ngl, I watched one episode of Umbrella Academy and IMMEDIATELY fell in love, and ideas sprang up like nobody's business. Side note: The chapter titles will all probably be literary references unless I run out of ideas, and there will be three fics: one for each season of Stranger Things. Special thanks to a tumblr mutual of mine for encouraging me and supporting me through this reboot (you know who you are and I love you).  
> So I've thrown a third fandom and some beloved Doctor Who characters into this rewrite that weren't there before, such as Clara and Jenny. (We all know that the Doctor's daughter has to come back SOMETIME.) The story will have a lot more nuance and twists than it did before, and will generally be better written. If you're not 100% sure what's going on, then I did my job well. (To be honest, I STILL have no idea what I'm doing. I just know I'm doing it really well.) Hope you buckled up, because this will be a long and wild ride!

**November 6** **th** **, 1983**

It was nearly 10 PM in the quiet small town of Hawkins, Indiana. Not many people were out at night, save for the occasional passerby or late shift worker, and the streets that the lights cast an amber glow onto were all but deserted. Unlike a big city, where the night was filled with the sounds of rushing cars and voices and the continuous _woosh_ of trains, Hawkins was nearly quiet as a tomb—save for the crickets, a rare car engine, or the faint hum of a neon sign. After all, it was the sort of town where the residents say, "nothing ever happens".

That night, though, something did happen. Something big, strange, completely out of the ordinary. Something verging on impossible.

Darkness surrounded the girl—above her, below her, faced her in all directions no matter where she looked. It was a void, plain and simple, with no light, no sound, no _feeling_. As she walked, the surface seemed to slosh and undulate beneath her feet, but she felt no water beneath her toes (a feeling she had grown all too accustomed to). The only thing she could hear was her own ragged breathing. Then—

_There. To the left_. A foreign noise. There was the sickening sound of flesh ripping, followed by gulping—like an animal tearing into a carcass. The girl turned towards it. A terrible sight greeted her. Something almost human, yet so far from it at the same time.

Long, thin limbs. Legs largely hidden by its hunched body. Cruel, clawed hands. Sickly gray-green skin, beaded with moisture, purplish-red veins crisscrossing every which way, like a roadmap. The girl moved closer to the creature, knowing that was what she was supposed to do. Her papa's words echoed in her mind.

" _This is the day we make contact."_

The beast took no notice of her as she crept closer. Her heart beat faster and faster, pounding against her ribs. Still she felt and heard nothing aside from her own breathing and the monster's snarls. Her arm stretched out slowly, her fingers trembling. As carefully as possible, she pressed two fingertips into its skin. It felt the same way it looked—slimy and terrible.

Immediately, it whirled around to face her. Perhaps it remembered her from their last encounter, one that had gone badly. The creature roared, opening its mouth wide. Rows of terrible teeth lined its mouth and throat. It screeched, lunging toward her.

Eyes flew open. Cracks appeared in the white tiled walls of the contained laboratory. Scientists began shouting. A white-haired man, her papa, ran down a ladder and started giving orders to the others. The lights flickered, while the cracks opened wider and wider, until something finally caved in and there was a fissure, an opening between the two worlds: her own, and the shadowed realm of the monster, who she visited in her head.

At the center of it all, the girl screamed.

* * *

Elsewhere, in a distant corner of space, the Doctor was having a very difficult time getting his TARDIS back under control. The console room kept shaking and moving from side to side, despite his valiant efforts to keep his grip on the control console—and thus, the controls. His companions Amy and Rory were hanging onto a rail for dear life in one corner, shouting at him about stopping the chaos.

"Can't you use the brakes?!" Amy yelled, though her voice was nearly lost in the rumbling. The Doctor shook his head as he pressed more buttons.

"The brakes are already on, Pond!" A pause. "I can't stop this! She needs to land somewhere, but she's not going where I want her to!"

Rory let out an exasperated sigh. "Then just let her land where she wants!"

_Oh_. That hadn't occurred to him (and now he felt like an idiot). Quickly, he checked the coordinates his machine had in mind, and his brow furrowed in confusion. A small town in 1980s Indiana? That had to be the strangest location the TARDIS had ever decided on herself. (Yes, that had happened before. Several times.) But there was no harm in it, surely. Maybe the TARDIS just needed a safe and quiet place to rest—though she wasn't low on fuel. Perhaps it was some other issue she needed to repair herself, though their telepathic bond hadn't shown any signs of a problem. Either way, though, the TARDIS had to have some reason for landing in 1983 in the town of Hawkins, Indiana, and it was rather stupid of him to not think of that.

"All right," he murmured, tapping his fingers against the console in apology. "You can go where you want to. Just… calm down."

The violent rocking and shaking lessened, but didn't stop—it never completely stopped shaking during flight. But it went from total chaos to something the three were all used to. Before long, there was a soft thump, and the shaking stopped altogether. The Doctor smiled, looking up in the direction of the rotor. "Well, that's better."

"Doctor?" Amy spoke up. "Where _are_ we? Where did the TARDIS take us?"

He turned back towards her, putting his hands in his pockets as he spoke. "Well, she dropped us in a rather unremarkable location. A little town in Indiana called Hawkins. The—"

"Indiana?" Rory echoed. "As in, the state in the US? We're in America?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes and nodded. "Yes, Pond, _that_ Indiana. As I was saying, we're in a small town in Indiana, and it's 1983. November 7th, 1983, to be exact. Around… noon, I'd say."

"Cool," Amy said, smirking. "I was barely alive in 1983." The Doctor chuckled at her remark as she went on. "No harm in having a look around, is there? I mean, there has to be a reason the TARDIS brought us here."

The Doctor nodded. "My thoughts exactly, Pond. Come on, both of you. Let's get to the bottom of this, shall we?"

Without further delay, Amy opened the TARDIS doors, and the group headed out into Hawkins.

* * *

**One day earlier…**

The young boy's voice was low and dramatic as he hunched over a small round table, much of his face hidden by a piece of cardboard. "Something is coming. Something… hungry for blood." His voice grew louder. "A shadow grows on the wall behind you, swallowing you in darkness. _It_ is almost here." Mike paused, looking around the room to see how the others would react.

His four friends shared worried looks among themselves. One of them, a scrawny kid named Will, who had copper hair in a bowl cut, wide brown eyes, and a high voice asked worriedly, "What is it?"

"What if it's the Demogorgon?" their friend Dustin cut in—a slightly chubby boy with short curly hair and missing front teeth, who always had a red-and-blue ball cap atop his head. Will let out a worried groan, collapsing back into his chair as Dustin continued. "Oh, Jesus, we're so screwed if it's the Demogorgon." He laid a hand on his head in worry.

The fourth party at the table, a thin but slightly muscular boy named Lucas, who was most notably wearing a bright yellow hoodie, held up his hands in exasperation, faced Dustin, and snapped, "It's not the Demogorgon. Okay?"

Their fifth friend, and the newest member of their party, looked the least concerned out of all of them. She was a young girl named Clara, with a dark curtain of hair that fell almost to her waist and large amber eyes. She'd dressed herself in jeans and a loose t-shirt, trying hard to downplay the beauty she couldn't deny was there—she was still quite pretty, even with a scowl on her face. "You lot are overreacting. So what if it's the Demogorgon? I can take it, easy."

Mike had had enough of letting the tension build, and he slammed a plastic figurine onto the game board. "An army of troglodytes charge into the chamber!" The three boys all sighed in unison, relieved. Clara rolled her eyes.

Dustin grinned. "Troglodytes?"

Lucas had the same relieved grin on his face. "Told ya." All five players laughed quietly to themselves, and for a moment, the seriousness of their game faded.

"Wait a minute," Mike said softly, looking down at his cardboard partition. Immediately, everyone grew quiet, not wanting to miss a word Mike was saying. "Did you hear that? That… that sound." There was a pause, then he raised his voice. "Boom, boom… BOOM!" He slammed his hands onto the table, making the others flinch at the sudden release of tension. "That didn't come from the troglodytes; no, that… that came from something else."

A longer pause this time. No one moved. No one said a word.

And then Mike set another figurine on the table, one depicting a two-headed reptilian creature with horned skulls and whiplike tails. "The Demogorgon!"

The three boys groaned in frustration, with Will falling back into his chair again and Lucas wringing his hands in anxiety. Clara giggled, almost looking excited. Dustin threw one hand up in the air. "We're in deep shit."

"Will, your action!" Mike exclaimed. Will looked down at the table.

"I don't know!" The other two boys jumped in, each shouting their own suggestion. Lucas spoke first, gesturing emphatically as he always did. "Fireball him!"

"I'd have to roll a 13 or higher!" Will argued.

Dustin shook his head. "Too risky. Cast a protection spell." This made Lucas roll his eyes.

"Don't be a pussy! Fireball him!"

"Cast Protection," Dustin insisted, tapping his hand against the table for emphasis. Clara groaned. "Just Fireball the bastard!"

Mike struck the table with his hands again. "The Demogorgon is tired of your silly human bickering! It stomps towards you! BOOM!"

"Fireball him!"

"Another stomp! Boom!"

"Cast Protection!"

"Attack him, don't—"

The game briefly devolved into madness as they all waved their hands and yelled directions at Will, clamoring for him to make a decision. Finally, the pressure got to Will, and he threw the dice across the table. "Fireball!"

Unfortunately, the force of his throw sent several of the dies clattering to the floor, and then there was more mad scrambling to find the ones Will had dropped.

They were interrupted by a loud voice calling Mike's name and the door to the basement opening. Standing in the doorway was a woman in her late thirties to early forties with shoulder-length brown curls, dressed in an orange sweater and high-waisted jeans. Mike glared up at her.

"Mom, we're in the middle of a campaign!"

She rolled her eyes, tapping her watch. "You mean the end? Fifteen after." Mike left the others in the basement, who were still groaning and complaining, and ran into the kitchen after his mother. "Mom, wait, just 20 more minutes!"

She sighed, not looking at him as she turned her attention to putting away dishes that were sitting on the counter. "It's a school night, Michael. I just put Holly to bed. You can finish next weekend."

"But that'll ruin the flow!"

"Michael—"

"I'm serious, Mom," Mike insisted. "The campaign took two weeks to plan. How was I supposed to know it was gonna take ten hours?"

She gave him a sideways glance. "You've been playing for ten hours?"

Mike froze.

* * *

**In another time and place altogether**

" _Number Five! You haven't been excused!"_

The boy let the old man's words hang in the air as he ran from the dining table to the front door, past the wrought-iron gates, and out onto the sidewalk. The only thing that kept him from laughing with glee was the young girl's shout, still fresh on the boy's mind.

" _Five, no!"_

He'd left her there without looking back. He'd just… _left_ her.

_No_. He couldn't think about that now. He had a promise to keep, and he was going to time jump. It was the only way he'd ever be able to really leave that… that _place_ , and go somewhere Reginald Hargreeves could not find him.

He'd take her with him, too. The others, if they wanted to come. He had to figure out the secrets to time travel—and how to take others with him—so they could all escape. One thing was for certain: Five was _not_ leaving the Academy for good without Vanya. He'd promised, after all.

He would be back. He'd come back for her.

The first jump took him to the same street, except the scenery had changed. It was autumn instead of summer. Yellow and orange leaves fluttered in the road like flickering flames. To Number Five, it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in that moment.

Another jump. It was winter, and icy cold. Time for another change of scenery. _I wonder…_ he thought, _can I go further forward?_

He ran down the sidewalk, then leaped. There was a flash of light, and then—

"What the hell?" an unknown voice rang out. "How the hell did you get in here?!"

Five was standing face to face with a man in a Hazmat suit, armed with a long shotgun. Strange combination. He cursed under his breath. Quickly, his eyes scanned his surroundings.

He was in a dimly lit room, with the walls and floor covered in white tile. Men in lab coats and Hazmat suits were running up and down flights of stairs, all shouting at each other. Five didn't have to wonder what was causing the panic, as that was immediately revealed by the cracks that were rapidly appearing along the walls.

And it was impossible to miss the large cylindrical tank of water that was still cracking. Inside it, a young girl, who couldn't have been any older than he was, let out a bloodcurdling wail. Her hands pushed outward, and the glass cracked further.

"KID!" the man yelled at Five. "Answer me! HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE?!"

Five opened his mouth to say something, his mind already working up a lie, but before he could say anything, something struck the man in the back of the head, and he collapsed to the floor at Five's feet.

Standing behind the now-unconscious man was a tall blonde woman, dressed in a simple green shirt and jeans, with a belt obviously meant for holding items secured around her waist. Knives and ammunition, and even what looked like a grenade, hung from the belt. Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, and her brown eyes flashed viciously. In one hand she was holding another shotgun—she must've knocked the man out with the blunt end of it.

"Hey!" one of the men in lab coats shouted from above. The woman bit her lip, then tilted her head in Five's direction. The glass tank shattered behind them, and the shrieking slowly faded away. "Oi, come with me if you wanna live." She was British. Weird.

The woman dropped the shotgun and broke into a run, towards the remains of the shattered tank, and Five followed.

Standing at the center of the wreckage was the girl. She'd stopped screaming, but her eyes were blown wide with fear. If Five hadn't heard her ripping scream just moments ago, he would have thought she was a boy at first glance—her hair had been shaved off, right down to her scalp. Electrodes were attached to her head.

"Hey," Five's rescuer said softly, crouching down to look at the girl. "Do you want to leave?"

She nodded. The woman smiled. "Thought so. Come on, we have to go before the others catch us." The woman held out her hand, and the girl clung to it like a lifeline.

Their mystery rescuer looked back at Five. "You too, kid! How fast can you run?"

Despite the situation—a crumbling structure, something warping the wall that Five was fairly sure wasn't just the cracks, men with guns running toward them, the fact that Five had no idea where or when he was—he had to grin.

"As fast as I need to."

The woman nodded, and without further delay, the three strangers tore through the place like a hurricane, not daring to look back as they shoved their way through an exit. Five did his best to block out the shouting, the barking dogs, and the harsh searchlight beams.

"What's your name?" Five shouted at the woman as they ran.

"Jenny," she gasped. "Jenny Smith. You?"

"I'm—"

"STOP RIGHT THERE!"

They were being pursued by men from the lab, except these men had full body armor on and were armed with submachine guns. Jenny and Five shared a panicked look.

"Run!" Jenny ordered. She detached herself from the terrified girl and gestured for Five to take the kid's hand. He did. Right as they reached the fence, Jenny turned to face their pursuers. "Go!" she yelled at Five. "I'll hold them off! Take the girl and run!"

"But—" Five tried to protest. It didn't seem right to leave Jenny here, at the mercy of several armed soldiers.

Jenny shook her head. "I'll be okay, kid. Just get her out, alright? She's been here long enough."

Five made himself look down at the girl. She was trembling and clutching his hand in a death grip, looking up at him with large amber eyes and wearing an expression like she didn't know whether she should trust him or run from him.

For a split second, he didn't see the face of a strange girl whose name he didn't even know. He saw a terrified Vanya, holding onto him after a particularly bad nightmare when she accidentally fell asleep one afternoon. (He was going to apologize profusely to her the _minute_ he got out of this mess and was back at the Academy.)

Slowly, Five nodded at Jenny. The woman smiled sadly and lifted up a portion of the fence, just big enough for them to crawl underneath. "Quick!" she urged.

The girl went through first, then Five. And then they were on the other side, leaving Jenny to fend for herself at the hands of at least half a dozen soldiers, who were fast approaching. Five sighed.

"Jenny—"

She shook her head again, forcefully this time. "I need you to do something for me." Five nodded, waiting for her to continue. "When you get out of here, find my sister. She's about your age, and you'll know her when you see her, because she's terrifyingly clever. Her name is Clara. You have to tell her what happened; I don't want her thinking I've just left her."

"But how do I—"

Jenny cut him off. "Run, now. And don't look back, you hear me? No matter what happens, keep running, and _do not look back_!"

Five took the girl's hand once more, and he listened. He broke into a sprint (not wanting to risk spatial jumping, especially because something told him revealing his powers here and now would only get them in more trouble), bolting towards and disappearing into the trees. Even when he heard Jenny crying out in pain, he did as she said.

He didn't look back. Not even once. He had to hide the girl, and find Clara.

* * *

As Will sped off towards his house on his bike, having beaten Dustin in a race to his friend's house, the light on his bike suddenly died out. He frowned, looking down at it, when the bulb flickered to life again. Will shrugged. It was weird, but he didn't think too much of it.

But when he looked back up towards the road, what Will saw was unlike anything he'd ever seen. A tall, shadowy figure, that almost looked human—but definitely wasn't. A low snarl reached his ears.

Will let out a horrified gasp and veered to the side, off the road. The sudden uneven terrain made his bike come crashing to the ground, but once Will managed to get up, he left it where it was: sitting in the leaves, with its front tire still spinning. He could still hear the growling as he ran in the opposite direction of where he crashed, towards his house.

He had to get away from that thing.

As he sprinted down the road, finally reaching the patch of grass that was his front lawn, there was a sudden flash where he stood that rendered Will paralyzed. In a blink, two people materialized out of thin air before him.

At first, Will thought it was two boys around his age, but after a second glance, he realized that the one in a hospital gown with a shaved head was actually a young girl. The other was a boy dressed in some kind of school uniform.

"Shit!" the boy cursed, and he moved to the side, tugging the girl along with him. Another blink, and they were both gone.

Will had no time to wonder about what had just happened, as the growling was getting louder. Not daring to let the thing in his house, he made a beeline for the shed, where he knew his father's old hunting rifle was. He would need it to defend himself.

He made it inside the shed, found the rifle, and loaded it with shaking hands. Blood pounded in his ears. He could hear every breath he drew in and let out. He pointed the barrel of the gun towards the shed door.

Suddenly, the lightbulb in the shed grew brighter than it ever had, illuminating the small wooden structure completely. For about five seconds, it stayed blindingly bright, before dying out just as abruptly.

When the light finally came back on normally, the monster that Will had seen was gone.

And he was gone, too.

* * *

Vanya was seated on the porch step, staring out at the courtyard. It was dark, and she knew that before long, Grace would be coming to collect her and put her to bed with the rest of the children. But even though she was yawning, and her eyelids were growing heavy, Vanya didn't want to sleep. Not yet.

It was dark, and Five still hadn't come back. She needed to be there when he returned. If he happened to come back when the house was dark, he might leave again. Without her.

All the whispered promises that Five had made to her—promises to leave when they were old enough, and together at that, his promise to not do anything stupid, and everything in between—came rushing back to Vanya. Tears suddenly stung her eyes, and a small burst of anger flared up in her.

"Five, you _liar_ ," she spat, her voice heavy from unshed tears. She drew in a shaky breath. "You _promised_!" she cried out, knowing full well that no one would hear her. "You promised me."

Suddenly, there was a flash of blue light. Vanya's eyes widened as a crack appeared in the air in front of her, filling with the bright light. Slowly, she stood up. The crack grew wider by the second, causing Vanya to draw in a horrified breath. Before it reemerged as a scream, a voice echoed from the strange fissure that rendered Vanya frozen where she stood.

" _Vanya! Vanya, where are you?"_

"Five," she gasped. That was _his_ voice coming from the gap. "Five, I'm right here!"

There was no response. Vanya stepped closer, calling his name again. Blood pounded in her ears. Slowly, she reached out with a trembling hand to touch the gap. It suddenly expanded all at once, obscuring Vanya's line of sight with a blue flare.

And then her world went dark.

* * *

**November 7th** **, 1983**

The Doctor slowly exited the TARDIS, with his companions behind him. The air was cool, considering it was almost winter, but it wasn't freezing, and the sun was out. The TARDIS had taken the liberty of landing in the woods, safe from prying eyes. "Well, it could be worse," the Doctor said brightly. "Good weather, safe landing spot. The biggest question is why we're here."

Amy stepped closer as she looked around. "Can you do some kind of… scan? See if there's any alien activity?"

The Doctor nodded, grinning at his red-haired companion. "Of course I can, Pond! Brilliant suggestion, by the way. Give me a moment, and I can do a scan for alien tech."

However, the scan showed no signs of alien technology being present in a place it shouldn't be. The only noteworthy thing that came up on the radar was unusual seismic and electrical activity in one direction. "Could be something," Rory suggested. "I mean, there has to be a reason she took us here."

"Right you are, Pond," the Doctor said in a low voice. "There has to be _some_ reason. There's always a reason. I think that somehow, the TARDIS sensed something. She thinks we need to be here. May as well find out why."

They traced the signal to a small house, where the scanner suddenly went into a conniption fit and started cutting in and out. The Doctor could only stare at the device blankly as it gave one last beep and shut off altogether. "Huh. That's never happened before."

Suddenly, the peaceful silence they'd been walking in for most of their trek was interrupted by a woman's voice, coming from the back of the house. There was a man's voice, too, and they were both shouting a name. "WILL!"

Amy and Rory both shared a worried look while the Doctor took a deep breath and walked ahead of them into the backyard. "We'd better go see what the problem is."

They stumbled upon a rather ominous scene. The two people who he'd heard shouting were combing the backyard and looking into the trees—one an older woman who pulled her coat tighter around her as she called out, and the other a teenage boy who seemed just as worried as she was. Even from a distance, the Doctor could notice some resemblance, and thus assumed that the boy was likely her son.

The Doctor stepped into view, calling out a greeting so as not to startle them. "Hello? Are you two alright?"

The woman all but ran over to him, her hands shaking. "I can't find—have you seen my son, Will? He wasn't in his room this morning, and… we don't know where he is. He's just a—"

"Hold on," the Doctor said in a quiet voice that he hoped was soothing. "I picked up some unusual activity near here. I'll help you find your son, but first I need to know what happened. First off, what's your name?"

Just then, the woman's son walked over to her, standing at her side. She drew in a shaky breath. "I'm Joyce. Byers. And this is my son Jonathan," she stammered, gesturing behind her. The Doctor nodded, managing a friendly smile.

"Nice to meet you both. I'm the Doctor, and I'm here to help."


	2. The Sign of Trouble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LONG LONG CHAPTER IS LONG. I BROKE THE 10K MARK, Y'ALL. Also, I wrote about 75% of it when I should have been sleeping, and it's like 1:30 AM right now, so if it comes across like I'm high, I apologize. 
> 
> Small note: Chapter title is a reference to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes novel The Sign of the Four.

**One hour previously**

The Hawkins National Laboratory was not typically known to entertain visitors. But after the events of the previous night—the unexplained appearance of an unknown boy, the girl's flight, and the apprehension of the fiery blonde woman who'd helped the children escape—people were flocking to the lab by the hundreds. All of them men and women in suits or lab coats, fully aware of what was going on in the depths of the lab. Cars sped towards the entrance. One stopped at the door, and no less than four men with suits and briefcases stepped out, walking up to a tall and thin white-haired man, who had obviously been waiting for them.

The leader of the group extended his hand to the scientist, who shook it. "Dr. Brenner," the visitor greeted with a polite nod of his head. Brenner nodded back, gesturing for the men to follow him inside.

They all followed a bald, bearded man in a lab coat as they descended further into the lab. "This way, gentlemen," he instructed, guiding the visitors and Dr. Brenner towards the room where the children escaped. "The entire east wing _will_ be evacuated within the hour. We've sealed off this area following quarantine protocol." The group of men disappeared behind a wall of clear plastic marked with biohazard signs that had been opened with a zipper.

Once inside the room, the men all changed into protective gear: white Hazmat suits with black belts secured at the waist, oxygen tanks, and airtight black gloves. They armed themselves with assault rifles, boarded an elevator, and descended into the darkest part of the lab.

When the doors opened, the scientists stepped out into an ominous scene. The lights overhead in the corridor continually flickered, making their flashlights the only reliable source of light. The air was much colder than it normally would have been, and strange white particles, almost like snow or dust, floated in the air, as if untouched by gravity. Aside from the clanging that came with the flickering lights, the only sound was the men's heavy breathing through their oxygen tanks. When they turned down the corridor and towards the entrance to the underground chamber, the real signs of destruction began to show.

Spatters of slime, and flesh that was most definitely not human covered the walls and door. Inside the chamber, a low growling emanated from the center of the back wall. The rift had grown, turning into an oozing doorway, covered by tentacles and a translucent pink gel-like substance. As the beams of light passed over it, the ooze pulsed like a beating heart, as if the doorway itself was alive. Though the men did not know it, they were standing at the foot of a gate to another world.

"This is where it came from?" one of the men asked.

Brenner answered him. "Yes."

"What about the woman you caught?"

Brenner thought back to the blonde girl. She'd been shot by one of the soldiers and died on the field, but miraculously woke up inside her body bag. Before she could so much as struggle, his men had drugged her and taken her to an isolated ward for further testing. "The threat has been neutralized."

The other man pressed further. "And the children?"

"They can't have gone far."

* * *

Inside the dark world, a creature was on the prowl.

That fact Rose had figured out quickly enough after being dragged there against her will. A cut on her hand was all it took for the thing to find her. She knew the thing had detected her from her blood, as she'd gotten a glimpse of it sniffing around before it had taken her, and she hadn't seen daylight since. For whatever reason, the creature that had taken her here hadn't devoured her yet—the few times she'd managed to glimpse it, it seemed to be hunting for something else. Only that and the advanced, not-quite-human mechanisms of her body were keeping her alive, as she'd barely had any water and no food at all during her time there, and the air was toxic.

Her disappearance happened six months ago. (Her sense of time had heightened ever since she looked into the heart of the TARDIS.) Half of a year had passed since she had been taken from her quiet life in Hawkins. It wasn't a life she'd chosen, as she got stuck there following the breakdown of her vortex manipulator, but she hadn't disliked it. It was far from ideal, and she was still separated from both her Doctors (having lost his half-human self on a Torchwood mission gone wrong), but she'd made the best of things, and she missed it.

She taught a science class at the high school. On weekends, she took up art projects, and sometimes went out for a drink, to dance, or to the movies. She'd gotten to know most of the people in the town. It was a quiet life, and she hadn't lived it for six months.

She hadn't seen _her daughter_ for six months. Rose had been trapped in that terrible place with no way of contacting her daughter, her beloved Clara, for _six months_. Of course, she'd tried her hardest to escape, but no solution had presented itself thus far. Rose could only hope that Jenny was caring for her—not that she doubted the other woman's love for Clara, of course. Rose had met Jenny by chance, and was taken completely by surprise upon seeing the Doctor's daughter alive and well. (After all, her half-human Doctor knew his Time Lord self watched her die.) Ever since then, Rose had considered the woman a second daughter, and an older sister to Clara.

As she walked across a dark field of dead grass, Rose pulled a crumpled old photo from the pocket of her gray hoodie. It was of her and a ten-year-old Clara, celebrating the latter's birthday. She'd lost her Doctor by then, but it was just before they were confined to Hawkins and life on the slow path. They'd been _happy_.

A tear fell from Rose's eye, landing on the photo. "I'm sorry, baby," she whispered. "I'll see you again one day, I promise."

She looked back up, letting out a heavy sigh as she realized just where she was standing—behind a ruined echo of Joyce Byers' house. Clara had been friends with Joyce's younger son, Will, and enjoyed spending time with Will's older brother Jonathan. She hoped Clara was still spending time with them and Will's other friends. _Does she still play Dungeons and Dragons with them?_ Rose wondered.

Rose walked across what would have been their back lawn in the normal world, smiling sadly at the sight of Will's tiny fort. Clara had always loved spending time with the other boys out in those woods, especially in the summer—leaving early in the morning and coming home just before dinner. Clara had grown up alongside her friends into a happy, clever girl, one her Doctor would have been proud of. Wistfully, Rose ran a hand over the top of the fort, letting out a sigh. "I'm sorry," she said again, her voice a whisper. "I'm so sorry."

" _Miss_ _Tyler_?"

The small, high voice made Rose all but jump out of her skin. It was coming from inside the fort, so she dropped to one knee and pulled back the curtain. She knew that voice.

"Will? Will, is that you?"

He was curled in a ball in the far corner, trembling and frightened. He eyed her warily, as if he wasn't quite sure she was real. Will nodded shakily, swallowed hard. "Where… where are we?"

Rose's heart broke. It was bad enough that she had to get trapped in that… that _place_ , but now Will was trapped there too. He was just a kid! It wasn't fair.

She sighed. "I'm not quite sure what this place is, Will. My guess is honestly some sort of alternate dimension, like a parallel universe." Rose knew a parallel universe when she saw one, as she'd had far too much experience in dealing with them. The one unprecedented factor was the monster, who could somehow travel between the two dimensions with ease.

"Or the Vale of Shadows," Will said softly. "An evil alternate plane."

Rose bit back tears that were suddenly stinging her eyes and nodded. "Maybe. Do you… do you wanna come out of there?"

Slowly, Will nodded in reply and got up on all fours, crawling towards the entrance. Rose moved back to allow room for him to stand, and smiled at him when he looked up at her. She offered him a hand, and he took it, rising up to his full height.

He looked almost awestruck at the sight of her. "Are you real?"

Rose choked back a sob, managed a smile in return. "Yes, I'm real. I've been trapped here ever since I went missing, but I'm not dead. Neither are you."

Will threw his arms around Rose then, hugging her waist. "I missed you."

Finally, Rose stopped fighting, and let the tears flow. "I missed you too, Will." She paused, drew in a shuddering breath. "Don't worry, I'm going to get us both out of here. I promise."

* * *

Five let the girl lean on him as they walked through the woods. After that botched spatial jump when the other boy saw them, Five hadn't risked using his powers again, and as such, he and the girl had been walking for hours. It hadn't bothered Five much, but he was still dressed in his uniform. The clothing gave him some protection from the chill in the air, whereas the girl was only wearing a paper-thin hospital gown, and she didn't even have any shoes on. She was undoubtedly starting to feel the effects from the cold, and her feet probably hurt. Five had to find someplace safe for them to hide, and fast.

"Don't worry," Five said, in an admittedly feeble attempt at reassurance. "I'll find somewhere safe for us to stay. We just have to keep moving, okay?" The girl nodded, and Five grabbed her hand, gently tugging her forward as they continued on. She hadn't said a word in all the time he'd been with her.

They walked a little longer before stopping at the top of a hill, where the trees gave way to developed land. At the base of the hill was a squat white building with a sloped roof, where a man had just exited the back door to take out the trash. Next to the building was an old black pickup truck, and an American flag flew towards the front of the building. At least Five knew for sure what country they were in now.

Although that building was clearly occupied, it was better than nothing, and they'd already been walking for hours. Five was willing to take his chances, rather than risk exhausting the girl any further.

He pointed to the building, catching her attention. "You see that?" he asked, tilting his head towards the structure as he spoke. She nodded. "Good. We're gonna go in there. But you have to be very quiet, okay? Nobody can know we're there."

The girl nodded again, but still said nothing. Five was beginning to wonder if she could even speak at all.

As soon as the man reentered the building and closed the door behind him, the pair set off down the hill. Five went ahead of the girl, checking to make sure the door was unlocked. When the knob turned without any problems, Five pulled open the door and went in, pausing long enough to let the girl follow him inside.

It was much warmer in the room they'd walked into, giving them a respite from the chilly air. Music played faintly in the distance, likely coming from a radio. A quick look around told Five that they were in some sort of storage room, lined with shelves, buckets, and crates. The tins of various cooking ingredients and the large bag of oranges indicated that they'd stumbled on some kind of restaurant or diner. Perfect. They both needed food, especially the girl—she was thinner than even Vanya, who hardly ate to begin with.

Five walked down the hallway in front of her, holding a finger over his lips to remind her to be silent. Neither of them made a sound as they turned to the left, while Five paused briefly to check the diner. There were a few customers, all of them older men, but they were keeping the man Five had first seen distracted, chatting about something related to sports. Probably gambling. In spite of everything, Five rolled his eyes as he pushed open a set of double doors that he knew led to the kitchen—the smell of food tipped him off.

"Quick, this way," he whispered to the girl. She followed him.

Five looked around the kitchen, trying to figure out if there was anything they could quickly grab and run off with. For the most part, though, all he could see were various metal utensils, a grill, and some other appliances.

He turned a corner, with the girl close behind, and his eyes fell on a basket of uneaten fries left out on a counter. Quickly, he stepped over, pushing the basket in the girl's direction. "Go ahead."

Hesitantly, the girl picked up a fry and bit into it. Then, as if overcome by hunger, she picked up a handful and tried to stuff it all in her mouth at once. Five had good mind to tell her to slow down, but decided not to say anything. She was probably a lot hungrier than he was, which was why he couldn't bring himself to take anything from her.

Then the owner of the diner turned around, catching sight of the pair from the back of the seating area. "Hey!"

His shout startled them both, but there was enough time for Five to grab onto her hand. "Oh, shit! Run!" They made a mad dash for the back door, and angry shouting told them that the owner was chasing after them. Five shoved open the kitchen doors just as the owner made it back there, and he took off with the girl down the corridor.

Then the owner caught up to them in the storage room, targeting the girl—as she was the one still clutching the basket of food in her hands. "You think you boys can steal from me?!" Right before the man could grab her, Five made a split-second decision to intervene.

He jumped, so that he was directly in front of her rather than a few feet away. He held out both arms in front of the girl, who was trembling behind him. "Wait!"

Five's voice dropped to a low murmur. "Wait. Don't hurt her. She just wanted something to eat."

The man seemed more shocked by Five's spatial jump than anything. "What in the hell? You just—"

"I know, don't ask," Five hissed. "Listen. She's in trouble, and I need to hide her. You have to let her stay here. We've been out in the woods for hours." When the man still said nothing, Five sighed heavily. "Please?"

The other man paused, thinking for a moment, and then nodded. "Okay. You can stay."

* * *

**Hawkins Middle School, present time**

The class bell rang, and the majority of the students in Mr. Clarke's classroom immediately made a beeline for the exit, ignoring their teacher—even as he gave them instructions. "Remember, finish chapter 12 and answer 12.3 on the difference between an experiment and other forms of science investigation. This _will_ be on the test, which will cover chapters 10 through 12." His voice started to trail off as the students filtered out. "It will be multiple choice with an essay section." He let out a sigh as the door thudded behind him.

The only students left in his classroom were Mike, Dustin, Lucas, and Clara, all perched on their tiptoes at his desk. The three boys were all grinning, while Clara seemed more distracted.

"So, did it come?" Mike asked excitedly. Clara only sighed and started running her fingers through her hair in agitation.

Mr. Clarke sighed. "Sorry, guys. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but…" he paused, and no one spoke up. Then his somber expression changed to a grin. "It came!"

The boys all but ran ahead of him to the AV room, while Clara dragged her feet, only keeping pace with her teacher. Mr. Clarke shot her a worried look, but she avoided his gaze.

Inside the AV room, an enormous radio sat on a desk. Mike dashed for the chair and sat down, grinning like a loon. "Yes!" he exclaimed happily, picking up the microphone to look at it. The other boys crowded around him. Clara only lingered at the edge of the desk.

The boys laughed and chattered excitedly about the technical capabilities of the Heathkit radio, but Clara was strangely quiet, biting her nails and fiddling with her hair. She had other things on her mind besides a new radio.

Jenny hadn't come home last night, and wasn't there in the morning. That in and of itself wasn't unusual, but her sister always, _always_ left a note on the fridge. When she'd woken up and found the house empty, Clara expected to find a note on the fridge explaining where Jenny had gone, but there wasn't one.

Something had happened. Clara was sure of it.

"Clara!" That was Dustin's voice. "Hello, Earth to Clara!"

"Sorry, what?" she said, shaking herself inwardly. "I was just… distracted."

"I said, do you wanna try it?"

Before Clara could reply, there was a knock at the AV room door, and they all turned around. The school principal was standing in the doorway, and behind him Clara could see two police officers. Considering how small the town was, Clara recognized them: the Chief of Police, Jim Hopper, and Officer Callahan, who everyone called Cal. (Her mother had always thought Callahan was a bit of a dimwit.)

"Sorry to interrupt," the principal said, pointing at them, "but may I borrow Michael, Lucas, Dustin, and Clara?"

* * *

All three of the boys were seated on a couch in the principal's office, talking over each other. Clara stood beside them, not saying a word. The two officers were seated in chairs across from them, and the principal sat behind his desk, watching them in confusion. Callahan stared down at the floor, and Hopper yawned.

Finally, Clara had had enough of the overlapping chatter, and she shouted at the boys. "SHUT UP!"

The volume alone was enough to stun them into silence, and she huffed. "Seriously! One at a bloody time! I can't hear myself think!"

"Clara!" the principal snapped. "Language!"

"Sorry, sir," she amended quickly. "But I—"

Hopper sighed, glancing at the principal. "It doesn't matter, all right? Thank you, Clara. One person at a time, okay?" he said, turning back to face the boys. He gestured to Mike. "You. You said he takes what?"

"Mirkwood."

"Mirkwood," Hopper repeated skeptically, and Mike nodded. "Yeah."

Hopper turned to Callahan. "Have you ever heard of Mirkwood?"

Callahan looked down at his clipboard. "I have not. That sounds made up to me."

Lucas shook his head. "No, it's from _Lord of the Rings_."

"Well, _The Hobbit_ ," Dustin corrected.

Lucas rolled his eyes and leaned over Mike (who was seated between them) to stare down Dustin. "It doesn't matter!"

"He _asked_!" Dustin shot back. Lucas repeated those words in a mocking tone, and then their conversation devolved into arguing. Clara rolled her eyes and moved to stand in front of them.

"Oi! What did we just say? One. At a damn. Time."

The three boys mumbled apologies to their friend, and Clara tossed her head in satisfaction, moving to stand back beside them. Hopper nodded towards Clara. "Thank you. Now, what were you saying?"

Mike continued, "Mirkwood, it's a real road. It's just the name that's made up. It's where Cornwallis and Kerley meet."

Hopper nodded. "Yeah, I think I know that—"

"We can show you, if you want," Mike cut in.

"I said that I know it!" Hopper snapped, wringing his hands in exasperation. "Okay?"

Mike wasn't done with the police officer yet. "We can help look." Dustin and Lucas nodded in agreement.

Hopper shook his head. "No. No, no, no, no." The boys all shouted in protest, while Clara let out a defeated sigh, leaning against the wall. "After school, you are all to go home. Immediately," Hopper said firmly. "That means no biking around looking for your friend, no investigating, no nonsense. This isn't some _Lord of the Rings_ book."

" _The Hobbit_ ," Dustin corrected again.

Lucas leaned over and whacked him on the arm. "Shut up!" Dustin hit Lucas right back, and Mike started yelling at them to stop it. Clara smacked Lucas upside his head. Hopper let out a sigh.

"Do I make myself clear?" he asked softly. The bickering ceased, but no one said anything in reply. Hopper rose from his chair and stood over them, repeating the question. His voice was dangerously low. "Do I make… myself… clear?"

Immediately the children all responded. "Yes, sir."

* * *

Five and the girl hid in the back room at the diner until the other customers left. Then, the owner brought them both out into the dining area, letting them sit at a table while he disappeared into the kitchen. He'd given the girl an oversized yellow shirt to wear in place of the hospital gown, and it hung from her tiny frame even more than the gown had. Five sat next to her, restlessly drumming the table with his fingers. Long periods of silence made him uneasy, especially after that incident at the dinner table, back at the Academy. But he couldn't think of anything to say to the girl, and it was doubtful that she'd say anything to him. All she did was cling to his arm, distorting the fabric of his jacket.

The smell of meat sizzling on the grill reminded Five of just how hungry he was, and when the owner returned with two baskets containing hamburgers, he didn't hesitate to start wolfing it down. The girl was eating just as quickly, if not faster, than he was. Five was glad to be free of the Academy, even just for a little while, but he was also bored and starving. And he missed Vanya.

"Jeez," the man said, chuckling. "Your parents forget to feed you?"

The girl didn't answer, but Five shrugged. "I'm starving, can you blame me?" His words were somewhat garbled by food, but he knew the man understood what he said. "I haven't eaten since yesterday. Don't ask."

He sighed. "All right, I won't. What, uh… what about her?" He tilted his head in the direction of the girl, who was so preoccupied with her food that she paid neither of them any attention.

Another shrug. "I dunno."

"Is she your sister?"

Five chuckled, shaking his head. "No. I, um…" He trailed off, realizing it would definitely be a bad idea to mention Jenny or the lab. "I found her. In the woods. I don't know how she got there or… where she came from. I'm just… trying to help her."

The man nodded, glancing at the girl. "Did you run away? Your parents, they, uh…" He sighed. "They hurt you? You went to the hospital, got scared, ran off, he found you, is that it?"

The girl met his eyes, but said nothing in answer. Five leaned closer to the man and whispered, "I… I honestly don't know if she can speak. Hold on."

He turned to face her. "Can you, um… can you talk?"

She nodded. "Yes."

Five's eyes widened in shock, and he smirked. "Well, I'll be damned. She speaks. Can you tell us what happened to you?"

Still the girl remained silent. The other man let out a sigh, grabbing hold of her food. "Okay. I'll give this back, alright? And you can have as much as you want. Maybe even some ice cream. But you gotta answer some of my questions first, kid. We got a deal?"

Without waiting for her to respond, he leaned forward slightly. "Let's start with the easy stuff, okay? My name's Benny. Benny Hammond." He extended his hand for the girl to shake, but she froze, as if she had no idea what to do.

Benny took hold of her hand, placing it in his own. "See, like this. Here." She flinched as he shook her hand, and he held up his free hand reassuringly, smiling at her. "Don't worry, I got you. It's okay." He cleared his throat. "Nice to meet you. And you are?"

She only stared at him blankly, which made Five wonder. Had she even been given a name?

Then her arm turned to the side, revealing something Five hadn't noticed before: three digits tattooed on the underside of her wrist. _011_.

"Eleven?" Benny asked. "What's that mean?" She didn't reply immediately, so he pressed further. "What's it mean, kid?" Still, the girl stayed silent.

Benny let out a sigh, picking up her basket as he rose from the table. "All right. I guess… no more food, then."

Five glared at the man. She needed to eat, whether Benny could get her to talk or not. Before he could say anything, though, the girl spoke up.

"Eleven," she said quickly, and Benny turned back to look at her. "Yeah," he replied, giving her a meaningful look. "What's it mean?"

She pointed her finger towards herself, tapping near the base of her throat. "Eleven."

In a flash, Five understood. _Her name was Eleven_. She had a number for a name. Like… like _him_. It was almost… nice, knowing he wasn't the only one.

Benny chuckled, sliding the basket across the table towards her. "All right, here you go. Take it easy." Then he sighed, shared a concerned glance with Five. The boy shrugged, as if to say he had no idea what to do, either.

"You done with that?" Benny asked, nodding towards Five's empty basket.

Five nodded. "Yeah." Benny grabbed hold of it, stood up, and motioned for Five to follow him. "Come with me. I've got some questions I need to ask you, too."

Before Five said anything in response, he looked back over at Eleven. "I'm gonna go with him for a minute, okay? Will you be alright out here by yourself?"

Eleven turned to face him and nodded. Five managed a small smile in return, but that quickly faded when he noticed something else. She was shivering.

Again, he saw Vanya in this wraith of a girl—her large, fearful amber eyes, her tiny frame, the way she clung to him when she got scared. He was reminded of her all over again. This strange girl with a number for a name was far too much like _her_ , and it resurfaced the guilt in him every time he looked too closely.

"Eleven?" he said softly. "Are you cold?"

She nodded again. Without thinking anything of it, Five removed his uniform jacket, draping it across her shoulders. "There." It might have been his imagination, but he could have sworn she smiled at him. Then he got up from his chair.

Five followed Benny to the kitchen, sitting down on an upturned bucket. "All right, ask away," he said curtly, crossing his arms. "What did you need me in here for, anyway?"

Benny shrugged. "I guess I just didn't want to confuse her any more than she already is. And this way, she won't have to hear anything you don't want her to hear."

Five chuckled humorlessly. "I'm not gonna spill all my secrets, you know that, right? That's not how this works."

"I know, I know," Benny said, sighing. "And I don't expect you to." He set the empty basket down on the counter. "First things first, the basics. I never asked your name."

"Number Five," he said shortly. "Just 'Five' is fine, though, everyone calls me that."

His eyebrows raised in surprise. "Okay. Five. Two kids with numbers for names, that aren't related. That's a hell of a coincidence."

Five smirked, chuckling. "You could say that again. Coincidences just make things more interesting, if you ask me. It's like… something the universe does for fun."

Benny smiled. "Yeah, I guess so. Next question: where in the world are you from? Nobody from around here dresses like that. You go to a boarding school or something?"

Five shrugged, then nodded. "Something like that, yeah. And, let me tell you, it sucks." Benny chuckled at that, and Five sighed.

"You all right, kid?"

"I'm fine," he replied, too quickly. "I just… well, let's just say I've messed up big-time." He thought back to Vanya again, the hurt look on her face as Five argued with… he didn't want to call Reginald Hargreeves their father. He'd never been much of a father to begin with. But he remembered yelling at the old man, Vanya shaking her head at him.

She'd tried to talk him out of time travel the night before. He should have listened to her.

"You want to talk about it?" The polite question broke Five from his thoughts, and he shrugged.

"Not particularly? I mean, it's a long story anyway." He looked down at the floor. "But, uh… I broke a promise. To my best friend. And now I'm responsible for this random girl who's in trouble with… _somebody_ , I don't know who, but I know she's running from something." (The part about not knowing was obviously a lie.) "I have a lot to make up for."

Benny nodded. "Well, we all mess up sometimes. Just, one more question?"

"Go ahead," Five said listlessly. He was tired of all the questions. He needed to ask about Clara, and find out if Benny had any idea of who he was talking about. "Ask away."

Benny's question, though, caught Five completely off-guard. He should have known the man would ask eventually, but Five was still completely unprepared to answer it.

"How'd you do that… thing? Where you just… teleported or something." When Five didn't reply, Benny sighed and crossed his arms. "Look, Five. I'm not gonna tell anyone, okay? I'm just curious." He chuckled slightly. "You gotta trust me a little bit, kid."

Five looked up at the other man, sighed heavily. "Fine. I won't trust you, but I'll tell you. But only because you're ordinary."

If Benny was confused by that statement, he didn't show it. Slowly, Five slid off the seat and dropped to the floor. "It's called a spatial jump. I can manipulate where I am in space, and that allows me to change my location—"

"You lost me, kid," Benny said, holding up one hand in defeat. He was laughing. "In English?"

Five rolled his eyes. "In layman's terms, I can do this." In a flash, he'd gone from standing in front of Benny to right by the kitchen doors. "Satisfied? Because I'm done with your questions. And I'll walk right back out there if you don't answer a few of my own."

Benny sighed, suddenly looking very tired and defeated. He beckoned for Five to come closer. "Okay, no more questions. What do you need?"

Five marched back into the kitchen, but he didn't sit down. "Question one. What is today's date? The full date, if you don't mind." He was smiling, but it was clearly false.

"The 7th. November 7th. Why?"

Five sighed heavily, rolling his eyes. "Work _with_ me here. It's not the _full_ date if you don't give me the year, too."

Benny nodded. "Right. It's, uh… 83. November 7th, 1983."

Five smiled that false smile again. "I won't even be born for another six years. That's just _fantastic_." His voice dripped sarcasm. "So I'm stuck nineteen years in the past with no way to get back, and I'm babysitting a fugitive. That… that's just great."

He looked back up at Benny. "Obviously, I'm in kind of a tight spot here. Okay, question two: you ever met anybody named Clara?"

Benny chuckled. "You'll have to be more specific, kid. Clara's a very common name."

Five groaned in frustration. "The first name's all I've got to go on… okay, _this_ Clara has an older sister. Name's Jenny. She's… blonde. British, I think? Oh, and Clara's about my age."

Benny's eyes widened, and he nodded in understanding. "Oh, you must mean Clara Tyler. And… and Jenny Smith. Yeah, Jenny's not really Clara's sister, she's just been taking care of her for the last six months, ever since Clara's mom went missing. I feel bad for the poor kid."

"Okay," Five replied. "Can you tell me where she lives? Because I need to find her."

Another nod. "Yeah, I'll write down the address for you. But, um… could you go back out there for a minute? I need to make a… personal phone call."

Five scrutinized the other man, who was suddenly avoiding his gaze. Benny's eyes kept flitting back and forth, towards a large phone book, the phone, and then the kitchen doors. Five shook his head.

"You're lying. You want to call somebody on us. My guess would be Social Services? You want someone to take us off your hands, even though I had no intention of staying here for long anyway. Am I wrong?"

Benny sighed. "Just her, alright? Not you. It's against my better judgement, but I'll let you leave and find Clara or whatever the hell it is you're planning. _You_ seem like you know what you're doing here. But she needs someone to look after her. That sound fair?"

Five hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "That'll work. Do you think it'll take very long for someone to come get her?"

A shrug. "Who knows? Could be this evening, could be tomorrow morning. Probably will be tomorrow, now that I think about it."

On hearing that news, Five let out a frustrated sigh, wringing his hands. "Damn it. I was hoping to be out of here by tonight."

Benny gave him a quizzical look. "Well, what's stopping you?"

He glanced backward, towards the double doors. Then he sighed. "I could've died trying to help that girl. And I think she's in a lot of trouble. I need to make _sure_ she's safe before I leave."

A pause. Then a nod. For a moment, something unspoken passed between the two of them—a mutual understanding, a silent agreement. Neither of them knew much more about the strange girl than her name, but despite that, they were set on keeping her out of harm's way.

"All right," Benny finally spoke up, breaking the silence. "Go back out there. I'll bring you the address once I've made the call. Best not to leave her alone for too long."

Five didn't respond, but nodded his head sharply to show that he understood. Without another word, he spun around on his heel and marched back through the double doors, back to where El was sitting. She still had his jacket hanging from her shoulders.

Easily, he slipped into the seat across from her. It took a moment for her to meet his eyes, but when she did, he managed a tiny smile. And though she was hesitant to do so, she returned it.

The pair sat in comfortable silence until Benny returned from the kitchen, sliding a white index card across the table for Five to take. Once he grabbed it, the other man didn't stick around. He was seemingly distracted by a rickety metal fan in one corner, examining the cord and muttering about how he "could have sworn he'd left it running". This made Five roll his eyes.

He turned the card over in his fingers, examining the address scribbled messily on the card. Beneath it was a phone number. Five stared at the letters and numbers for what felt like a long time as he committed it to memory.

Suddenly, fingers pressed against his right forearm, and Five looked up. Eleven was trying to turn his arm over, staring intently at the black ink in the shape of an umbrella that marred his skin.

Five sighed, set down the index card. He pulled his arm back, letting his wrist lay flat against the cool metal tabletop. Slowly, Eleven placed two fingers over the ink. Five barely felt her touch. He wasn't quite sure what to say to her, either, so he stayed silent. He had a feeling she liked silence better than talking, anyway.

She mimicked his past action, placing her left wrist on the table in the same way that he had. He'd seen the 011 on her wrist before, but he allowed himself to examine the ink a little more closely. It wasn't quite as dark as the black ink on his own arm—almost more green than black, and obviously much smaller. A Band-Aid could probably cover it up. In that respect, he envied her. Ever since being forced to get the umbrella tattoo, Five had wished it was easier to cover the mark. But other than that, he felt no desire to trade places with the wide-eyed child in front of him. She was a trembling and terrified ghost of a girl, who barely knew how to speak.

"Same?" she questioned, in that low, shaky voice of hers.

Five tilted his head, confused by the query. "Hmm?"

She trailed a finger over his tattoo, drawing a line to hers, then back to the umbrella. She tapped it, almost as if she was taking his pulse. Her movements were slow and deliberate, and when she spoke, she paused for several seconds between words. She seemed to have difficulty thinking of the right ones to use. "Like… me."

Five glanced down at the tattoos, letting out a heavy sigh. In a way, she was right—they both had numbers for names and marks on wrists that identified them as belonging to something or someone.

In a flash, he was pulled back into a memory: the day he and the others—minus Vanya—all received their tattoos. The ink was still stinging his wrist, and the nearby skin still an angry red when she'd met him in the stairwell, rolling up her jacket sleeve. Vanya had no permanent mark on her skin, but she'd drawn an umbrella on her wrist in black marker, smiling proudly at him.

" _See? I'm like you now."_

The curious eyes of the girl sitting across from him snapped Five back into reality. He swallowed hard and nodded back at her. "Yeah," he replied, his voice barely even a whisper. Five cleared his throat, making his next words a bit clearer. "Yeah, we're the same."

* * *

The woman standing in front of the Doctor took a moment to respond to his greeting. "Doctor. Um…"

It was obvious Joyce was restless and uncomfortable, as she kept shifting her weight from foot to foot and wringing her hands. "Will, he… we're not sure if he even came home last night. We were both working, and Will was over at his friend Mike's house, but we didn't see him this morning. And his teachers said he didn't come to school, and—"

"Mom," Jonathan cut in, resting a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay. We'll find him."

The Doctor let out a sigh, glancing behind them towards the house. "Would it be alright if we went inside? If he did make it back here last night, I might be able to find something that'd tell us where he went."

Jonathan shook his head. "Look, we don't have the money for some kind of private investigator—"

"Oh, you don't have to pay us anything," the Doctor cut in, holding up one hand placatingly. "Don't worry. I'm not even an investigator, officially. I just want to find out what happened here—and I know _something_ happened here—as much as you do. That's all."

Joyce nodded shakily. "C-Come on. We should head inside." She nodded towards her son. "Come on, Jonathan."

He didn't argue, but eyed the three of them warily as he guided his mother back towards the house. Rory leaned to one side to whisper something to Amy, but the Doctor paid them no mind as he followed Joyce and Jonathan onto the porch.

Right beside the step, a mid-size dog with shaggy, cream-colored fur and perked-up ears was staring off towards the shed and barking, not even paying the newcomers any attention. The dog had seen something, that was for sure. "Is your dog alright?"

Joyce looked back over at the animal and sighed. She bent down and grabbed the dog by the collar, tugging him towards the door. "He's probably just hungry. Come on."

Once they were inside, Joyce began pacing nervously around the living room. "I just… I don't understand what happened, or where he could've gone. This is a really small town." She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Of course, Hopper—that's the police chief—wants me to call my ex-husband, as if that'll get us anywhere. Will wouldn't just run off."

"Mom, you need to stay calm," Jonathan cut in, trying to get her to stand still.

The Doctor nodded in agreement. "You should really sit down for a moment. My friends Amy and Rory here—" he glanced back at them, gesturing for them to stand in front of him, "can ask you some questions to narrow things down, while I take a look around. If you don't mind, of course."

Joyce shrugged, suddenly seeming listless. "Go ahead." Then she turned to face her son. "Are you still working on those posters?"

Jonathan nodded, beckoning for the Doctor's companions to follow him. "Yeah. Come on, let's… let's go to the living room."

Only the Doctor stayed behind in the kitchen, discreetly scanning the room with his sonic screwdriver. Sure enough, the readings were going haywire from interdimensional activity. There were tiny, almost invisible cracks between dimensions—not universes, as that would be altogether different—and the cold, eerie feeling that went along with sensing a… _presence_ in the room. As if something was watching. Something not quite visible, but there, nonetheless. It was a wonder the humans hadn't noticed it—but, then again, he'd always been more sensitive to that sort of activity than most. (And, of course, he was not human.)

Then he remembered the dog. It had been barking at the tiny shed sitting at the very back of their yard. Something had happened back there, he was sure of it.

Deciding not to waste another second, the Doctor headed back outside, all but running towards the shed.

Meanwhile, back inside, Amy had taken over in asking the questions. "So he was with his friends all night, over at Mike's house?"

Joyce nodded. "Yeah. I thought he stayed over, but when I called Karen this morning, she said he left with the other kids. I don't really know anything else."

"Have any other people gone missing recently? Anything that could be connected?"

In answer, Joyce shook her head. "No." She suddenly went silent, as if she was thinking about something. Then a sigh. "Well… there is one thing. Six months ago, one of Will's friends, Clara Tyler. Her mother Rose just disappeared one night. They still haven't found any sign of her. Just an… empty car. No note, no blood. Everyone thinks she's either run off or… died, somehow. I don't know _what_ to think. There's no real reason to think she's dead, and I know she'd never leave behind her little girl. Especially not willingly. Rose told me a bit about her old life, and… she'd already lost her husband. Clara was her whole world."

"Poor kid," Rory murmured, glancing down at the half-finished _MISSING_ poster Jonathan was working on, hunched over the living room floor.

Joyce nodded in assent. "Yeah. Clara's not even thirteen yet. She's a tough girl, but… I know she misses her parents. Her old babysitter, Jenny, takes care of her now, but she likes coming over here a lot. Her mother did, too."

"Who knows," Amy mused. "Six months isn't actually a very long time. These disappearances _could_ be connected in some way."

Joyce sighed, shrugging. "It's not likely."

Amy managed a small smile. "Once you've eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. And it's… not impossible. We don't know for sure yet, anyway."

Joyce looked away, and Amy laid a hand on her arm. "Ms. Byers, we _will_ find out what happened to your son. I swear it."

The sudden rattle of an approaching car engine was enough to make Jonathan get up from the couch and peer through a gap in the curtain. "Mom," he said quickly. "Cops."

* * *

Outside, the Doctor was examining every corner of the shed. An opened box of rifle ammunition laid on the table, though there was no gun in sight. The lightbulb had spontaneously come on when he shut the door behind him, which was both odd and disconcerting. Then it flickered out again a few seconds later.

He scanned the room with his screwdriver, and the readings were completely unintelligible. Which meant that something was jamming the sensors. Muttering curses under his breath, he tried to get some sort of discernible result from the scans, when he was interrupted by the shed door swinging open.

"Hey!" A gruff shout broke the sudden tension. Standing in the doorway was a man in a police uniform, armed with a small pistol. He gestured to one side, pointing the muzzle of the gun at the Doctor's sonic screwdriver. "What the hell is that?"

"It's my screwdriver," the Doctor replied quickly. In one swift move, he put it back in his jacket pocket. "I was just—"

"Out of the shed!" the other man ordered. "Come on."

He tilted his head in confusion. "Wait, didn't she tell y—"

The officer was clearly not in the mood for talking, as he directed a sharp glare at the Doctor. "Out of the shed _now_ , before I shoot you! Got it?"

The Doctor sighed in frustration, deciding to save the arguing for when there wasn't a gun pointing at his forehead. He followed the officer back outside. "All right, all right, I'm going! Can't you put that thing away?"

He got no response as he was all but shoved across the yard and back into Joyce's house. Waiting for them in the living room were Joyce, Jonathan, and the Doctor's two companions. Two more officers were standing inside the house. The Doctor grinned at all of them. "Hey, guys."

"Hopper!" Joyce snapped, storming up to the officer. "Like I was _trying_ to say before you just ran outside and left me in here with _these_ idiots—" she gave the other officers an especially harsh leer before she resumed yelling, "he was _supposed_ to be back there! He and his friends are helping me look for Will."

"Oh," was all the other man said, turning to glance at the Doctor. "Sorry."

He shrugged. "Don't worry about it. I've actually been arrested quite a few times over simple misunderstandings, so I can overlook this."

"Did you find anything?" Joyce asked him. The Doctor sighed and shook his head, turning his sonic screwdriver over in his fingers.

"Not much. Just some unreadable data. Something happened back there, and I'm not sure what."

Hopper turned his attention to the other officers, not bothering to pay any mind to the Doctor. "Listen, I want you to call Flo. I want to get a search party together, all right? All the volunteers she can muster. Bring flashlights, too."

One of the cops regarded him dubiously. "You think we got a problem here?"

Hopper sighed. "I don't know what to think."

Before long, all the officers left, and the Doctor was accosted by Amy. "Listen, I have an idea," she said. "I have a hunch that this other disappearance Joyce mentioned could be connected to Will." Amy turned to glance at the other woman. "Do you know of anywhere we could get information on it?"

Joyce shrugged. "It was in all the papers, but your best bet would probably be talking to Clara or Jenny. They were the last ones to see her."

Amy nodded. "Thanks. I—"

"Pond," the Doctor suddenly cut in. "I have another idea. You and Rory go with the search party tonight. Let me know if you find anything. We can reconvene later for this hunch of yours, but I still need to rule out a few things. I'll stay here—if Joyce doesn't mind, of course," he said, glancing at her. The woman shrugged and shook her head. The Doctor nodded, clearing his throat. "You both can come back here later tonight and tell me if you found anything."

Rory nodded. "I think that's a good idea. What about you, Amy?"

She let out a sigh, but replied, "Oh, all right. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to wait a bit to investigate the other disappearance."

"You'd better hurry, too, if you want to make it to the police station," Joyce added. "Come on, I'll show you how to get there."

* * *

Clara sat at the dinner table with Mike, his parents, and his two sisters Nancy and Holly. Nancy was an older teenager who kept her slightly curled hair neatly pinned back, and almost exclusively wore blouses. Holly was a tiny blonde three-year-old who Clara knew well enough from all the times her mother babysat, before she disappeared.

Mike was currently trying to argue with his mother. "We should be out there right now. We should be helping to look for him."

Mrs. Wheeler sighed. "I'm not gonna have this fight in front of Clara, Mike. We've been over this. The Chief says—"

"I don't care what the Chief said!" Mike snapped, gesturing emphatically. "We have to do something! Will could be in danger." At the mention of danger, Clara's gaze dropped to the floor.

"More reason to stay put," his mother insisted. Mike groaned. "Mom—"

She shook her head. "End of discussion."

Clara looked back up and did her best to smile at Mrs. Wheeler, the tension in the room getting the better of her. "Thanks for letting me eat with you guys."

Karen smiled back at her. "Oh, it's no problem, sweetie. Is Jenny alright?"

Clara nodded. "Yeah, she's just really busy. Plus she hasn't been feeling that good."

Karen sighed sympathetically. "Well, you tell her that I hope she feels better. Okay?" Clara nodded, and Karen gave her a concerned look. "You sure you can get home by yourself? I can drive you if you want."

She shook her head. "No, that's okay. I can take my bike."

A few moments of silence passed before Nancy spoke up. "So… me and Barb are gonna study at her house tonight. That's cool, right?"

"No, not cool," Karen snapped.

Nancy groaned. "What? Why not?"

"Why do you think? Am I speaking Chinese in this house? Until we know Will is okay, no one leaves."

As the arguing continued to devolve, from Nancy and Mike shouting to both of them storming off, Clara kept her eyes down at her plate. Karen smiled at her apologetically and told her to leave the dishes, letting Clara head down to the basement to see Mike.

As she headed down the steps, she heard Mike call out to her. "Clara, is that you?"

She nodded. "Yeah, who else? You alright?"

He sighed, turning to face her as she entered the room. "I can't just sit here while Will is out there and possibly in danger. I have to do something."

Clara lowered herself into a seat across from him and nodded, her eyes dropping to the tabletop. "I know what you mean."

Mike's brow furrowed, and he leaned forward a bit to look at her. "Clara, are you okay?"

She let out a sigh. "I wasn't gonna tell anyone, but I think I have to now." Clara paused, fiddling with a lock of her hair. "Jenny didn't come home last night. I haven't seen her all day and she didn't leave a note the way she usually does when she leaves. And it's never for this long. Mike, I think… I think something happened to my sister."

He was silent for a moment, as if he was taking in what she'd said. Then, without hesitation, he pulled out his walkie-talkie. "We should check where Will disappeared. We need to get the party together, stat."

After a quick discussion of their plans to Lucas, he agreed to meet them in ten minutes, and the pair grabbed their bikes and left Mike's house—though not before making eye contact with Steve Harrington, Nancy's new boyfriend, as he tried to climb up to her window.

"We should meet up at Mirkwood," Clara said into her walkie-talkie—she was speaking to Dustin. "That's where the cops found his bike. It's all taped off, but I can get us through."

* * *

Benny watched Five and Eleven as he scrubbed the sink—the two children were seated just behind him, eating out of a tub of strawberry ice cream. Eleven had given Five his jacket back, but she still looked impossibly small, hunched over on top of an old barrel.

Benny smiled at Eleven in particular. "You like that ice cream, huh?" In return, she smiled back at him.

"Smile looks good on you," he quipped. When she stared at him blankly, he turned around to face her. "You know, smile?" He mirrored her own expression and she nodded, grinning wider. Five had to allow himself a small smile at that.

A soft knock suddenly emanated from the front of the diner, and Eleven's head whipped around in alarm. Five slowly shook his head at her. "It's okay, it's just someone at the door."

Benny nodded. "Whoever it is, I'll tell them to go away real quick, all right? You just sit tight."

Once Benny left the back room, Five slid off the barrel, pressing a finger to his lips the way he had some hours before—a signal for her to be completely silent. Out of habit, he removed his mask from his pocket and pulled them over his face as he watched the door.

Benny opened the door and spoke to an older blonde woman, who introduced herself as Connie Frazier, a member of Social Services. Five wasn't entirely convinced as he watched her speak—while it was true that most professionals did put up a slightly more polite front of some sort, almost like Grace, this woman seemed _too_ stiff, _too_ polite.

Something wasn't right.

"So, where is she?" The woman tried to look past him, and something about that set off alarm bells in Five's head. _She might be after Eleven._

Benny cleared his throat. "Right, she's in the kitchen. Come on up, I'll introduce you." Five ducked beneath the counter and out of view as they passed by the window. Once again, he signaled for Eleven to stay silent.

When he peered back through the gap again, Benny was turned away from the woman. "You know, it's funny. Your, uh, your voce sounds different on the—"

Five almost didn't see it coming as Benny started to turn around and the woman drew a pistol from her purse and aimed. And in a moment of panic, Five found his voice. "GUN!"

Unfortunately, before he had time to react, the woman pulled the trigger, and Benny collapsed to the floor—undoubtedly with a gaping hole in his forehead.

"Shit," Five cursed, turning back to grab Eleven's hand. "Come on, we gotta go!"

She wasted no time in obeying his orders. After running a few feet, Five teleported them both to the back exit, but they were quickly intercepted by two armed men in suits. "Oh, f—"

Suddenly, Eleven stretched out her hand, flinging both men to the side. They collapsed with a groan and a resounding thud onto the kitchen floor, and Five quickly vanished with Eleven in tow.

 _Holy shit_ , he thought as they reappeared in the woods. _She's telekinetic. She has…_ powers _. Like us. No wonder someone wants her so badly._

* * *

Inside the Byers' house, Joyce and Jonathan sat on the living room couch poring over photographs the latter had taken, while the Doctor was quietly conversing with his companions about the results of the search party: nothing had come up, and they'd had to call off the search because of the storm.

"The good news is, though, I was able to ask around about that science teacher that went missing," Amy murmured. "Problem is, no one really knows much. They found her car on the side of the road as she was driving home from the cinema. No evidence she'd been hurt, no ransom note. Only thing I found out is where she and her daughter Clara lived. Jenny, her old nanny, bought the place so that she could take care of Clara without having to move the kid."

"What did you say her name was, again?" the Doctor asked.

"Rose," Amy replied. "Rose Tyler. Why?"

He leaned against the wall, trying to calm his suddenly whirling mind. Rose Tyler wasn't that uncommon of a name, he reminded himself. _His_ Rose was not from this time _or_ this place, and she was a universe away. Whoever this woman was, she was not _his_ Rose.

In answer to Amy's question, he simply shrugged. "Just checking. I suppose tomorrow we could visit her house, see if we find anything there. Talk to her daughter."

Amy nodded. "Good plan."

Suddenly, the phone rang, and Joyce all but sprinted over to answer it. "Hello?"

The responding static was so loud that even the Doctor, Amy, and Rory could hear it, despite not being right next to the phone. They stepped closer, while the Doctor tried to do another scan with his sonic. Once more, the readings were a jumbled mess.

"Hello?" Still there was no response. "Lonnie?"

Jonathan stepped over from the other room, suddenly curious. "Dad?"

Joyce tried again, even as the static persisted. "Hopper? Who is this?"

The Doctor knew it would be of no use to try and boost the phone signal, as whatever mess that was causing his readouts to go haywire was also jamming the sonic's other features.

Then, the static faded enough for a sliver of sound to come through—muffled, ragged breathing. It was high and raspy enough that it could belong to a child. Joyce gasped. "Will?" She repeated his name, but her voice gave way to sobs as another sound broke through: a strange high-pitched snarl that was decidedly not human.

"Mom, is that Will?" Jonathan persisted. She couldn't answer him.

"Who is this?!" she shouted. "What have you done to my boy? Give me back my son!" The snarls grew louder, becoming clear enough that the Doctor had to grab onto something to keep from collapsing in shock.

He knew that sound. There was only one sort of creature in the universe that growled like that.

Suddenly, the electricity surged, blue sparks shooting from the receiver. Joyce screamed in pain and dropped it, nearly collapsing to the floor. Amy caught her, putting one arm around the other woman.

"Oh, God…" Amy said to herself as Joyce finally broke down, the stress of not knowing where her son was finally hitting her full force. "It was Will," she sobbed. "It was his breathing. I _know_ it was his breathing."

 _Things have definitely gone from bad to worse_ , the Doctor thought to himself. _If what I heard was really what I thought I heard, then Will is in far more danger than his family could ever imagine._

* * *

Clara trudged ahead of her friends through the rain, panning the trees with her flashlight as they all called out. "Will! Jenny! Are you there?!"

"Jenny!" Clara shouted. "Are you out here?"

"Byers!" Lucas yelled. He was louder than the others, which was useful in the rain and thunder. She pulled the hood of her raincoat higher up over her head, in an effort to keep her hair from getting any more soaked than it already had.

"Guys, I really think we should turn back," Dustin panted. "It's too dark. We'll never find anything."

Lucas huffed. "Seriously, Dustin? You wanna be a baby, then go home already!"

"The cops had to call off the search party because of the rain. You can't find people when it's raining," Dustin argued. "I'm just being realistic, Lucas!"

"No, you're just being a big sissy!"

Dustin sighed. "Did you ever stop to think that maybe Will went missing because he ran into something bad? And we're going to the exact same spot where he was last seen? And we have no weapons or anything?!"

"Dustin, shut up," Mike snapped. Clara nodded in agreement. "We're not going anywhere until we find—"

"No, seriously, shut up," Mike snapped. To the left of him, the leaves rustled. "Did you guys hear that?"

Dustin groaned. "We're in deep shit."

"Hold on." Clara suddenly bent down, fiddling with her boot. "Oh, _fuck_! Where—no, wait, here it is." In a flash, she produced a wicked-looking silver blade from the inside of her sock, that was nearly as long as her hand. She held it out in front of her, and the boys were too shaken up from nerves to be surprised by the fact that she kept a knife strapped to her ankle.

There was more rustling in the other direction, so they spun around, and were met with nothing but a distant indistinct screech. Then another rustling sound.

The four turned around again, and were met with a shocking sight—a boy about their age dressed in some kind of school uniform, with an odd mask covering his eyes. At his side was a girl, with her hair shaved down to her scalp. As she was dressed in an oversized bright yellow shirt that hung from her frame, and with water dripping off her deathly pale skin, the girl almost looked like a ghost.

Then the boy spoke up, meeting Clara's eye directly. "Are you… are you Clara Tyler?"

She froze, but then nodded shakily. "Yes."

"We need your help."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Five. I hope I did okay with his characterization? See, I wanted to make him a little different from how he is on the show as an acknowledgment that he is actually still a child. An asshole one, sure, but still a child. (And he misses his best friend, poor baby.) So he's a genius and a little prick, but he's also thirteen years old and still capable of acting at least kinda like a kid. Hope that makes sense.


	3. The Strange Case of Number Five and Vanya Hargreeves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s finally here! Not the best imo, but I GOT IT DONE!  
> (Insert mandatory explanation of the chapter title: based on The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson.)

Inside Mike Wheeler's basement, he and his friends crowded around the old upholstered couch. The two strangers were sitting there, both looking exhausted and soaked from the rain. The girl was clinging to the boy's arm, breathing heavily, with an oversized leather jacket draped over her shoulders. Her companion still hadn't removed his weird mask, and it was almost impossible to tell if he was even still conscious. Clara approached the girl first, bending down to her level. "Is there anything we can do to find your parents? Someone who can take care of you?"

"I don't think she has any," the boy suddenly blurted out, sitting upright. He pulled off his mask, glaring at them with striking green eyes. "I found her in the woods." Clara's eyes widened at that—children didn't just turn up in the woods like wild animals, not without a reason.

"Where's your hair?" Dustin blurted out, staring at the girl. "Do you have cancer?"

A huff came from the boy sitting at her right, and the girl tightened her grip on his arm. "She's fine. I think. Pretty sure someone just… shaved her head, for some reason."

Mike nodded. "Are… are you in some kind of trouble?" he stammered. He took a step closer to her, having caught sight of the red stain on her shirt. "Is that blood?"

Clara smacked Lucas' hand away as he, suddenly curious, reached out to touch her. "Stop it, you're all freaking her out!"

"She's freaking _me_ out!" Lucas shot back. Clara rolled her eyes.

"I bet she's deaf," Dustin piped up.

The strange boy sitting on the couch shook his head. "No, you idiots, she isn't deaf! She just doesn't talk much." The girl drew in a sharp breath, and he laid his free hand over hers. "It's okay. They're not gonna hurt you."

Clara turned her attention to him. "The real question is, how do you know who I am?" When he didn't answer right away, her voice lowered. "Did you… did you know my father?" That was a plausible explanation, as he not only looked out of place, he _felt_ wrong. Out of place and out of time.

"What?" he stammered. "No, I don't know anything about your father. I… your sister is the one I know about."

Clara's face paled. "My sister? _Jenny_? You knew her?"

The boy nodded. "She… well, she saved my life. It's a really long story, but I don't think I can tell you right now. See—"

"No, you can tell me now!" Clara snapped. "If something happened to my sister, then I wanna know about it!"

"Listen," the boy hissed. "Now is _really_ not the best time. Look at Eleven, she's terrified. And with good reason, since you're all yelling at us! So would you all _please_ shut up and calm down so I can do something?"

Clara was stunned into silence. It was rather obvious that he cared very much about the welfare of the girl sitting next to him. She nodded slowly. "Of course. I'm sorry. We can talk later."

Lucas, however, was not yet done with the pair. "Her name is _Eleven_? And why the hell is she so weird?"

"That's enough, all right?" Mike cut in, standing between his friends and the two strangers. "She's just scared and cold. We should leave her alone." Quickly, he walked over to a corner of the basement, grabbing some clothes out of a laundry basket.

Suddenly, a particularly loud clap of thunder rang out, and Eleven gasped in fear, squeezing her eyes shut. The boy grabbed hold of her hand, letting her tighten her grip on him. "It's okay, it's just thunder. Nobody's gonna hurt you." Clara's heart ached for the poor girl—either she feared storms or had a bad experience with something that sounded like thunder. Not unlike when she herself flinched at loud sounds for over a year after an… incident.

Then Mike came back over, holding out the clothes for the girl to take. "Here, these are clean. Okay?"

Slowly, she extended her hand to take them from him, then pressed the thick navy material to her face, wiping away the moisture left from the rain. She shrugged off the jacket and stood upright. Then she bent down, about to pull up the hem of her shirt, when the shouting started.

"No, no, no!" all of them shouted at once, reacting on instinct. Dustin and Lucas immediately turned away, while Clara, Mike, and the other boy moved to stop her. Mike kept his eyes to the floor as Clara stepped closer to her, holding up one hand.

"You see over there? That's the bathroom," Clara explained, tilting her head in that direction. "Privacy. Understand?"

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God," Dustin exclaimed.

Both Clara and the other boy rolled their eyes at his immaturity. The former snapped, "Get a grip, Dustin. She's obviously not familiar with proper boundaries." She took the girl's hand, guiding her towards the back bathroom. "Come with me, love."

After showing Eleven inside the bathroom, Clara stood in the doorway and started to swing it shut behind her. But the girl turned around, intercepting the door with the palm of her hand. Her face was white, and her eyes wild with fear.

"Oh, do you not want it closed?" Clara said softly. The girl shook her head. "No."

She was afraid of tight spaces, Clara realized. Classic example of claustrophobia. Poor girl. Even so, she managed a little smile in Eleven's direction. "All right, then. How about we just keep the door… like this?" Clara pushed the door forward, closing the gap more, but not all the way. "Is that better?"

Eleven nodded. "Yes."

"Wonderful. Now, you just get changed and come back when you're done. I'll be with the others." Clara gave her one last parting grin, then turned back to rejoin the boys in the main area. Her friends were huddled in a group, while the stranger was leaning against the wall looking both worried and somewhat bored.

"This is mental," Dustin said, gesturing emphatically with both hands. Lucas nodded in agreement, and Clara shrugged. She'd seen weirder than a pair of kids turning up in the woods.

Mike sighed. "At least her brother talks. That way, if she needs something, then—"

"You do know I can hear you, right?" the boy drawled, tilting his head to one side. "I _told_ you morons that I found her in the woods, not even a whole day ago! I'm not her brother. And if you want her to talk, she will eventually, but first you have to try shutting up around her, so you don't freak her out!"

" _You_ freak _me_ out!" Lucas shot back.

Clara huffed, holding her arm out to one side in a gesture that clearly meant she wanted the argument to end. "He's right. She talked to me because I was calm."

Lucas rolled his eyes. "She said 'no' and 'yes'. Mike's baby sister says more than that, and she's three!"

"She tried to _get naked_!" Dustin cut in, giving Clara a firm look. He glanced across the room at the boy. "Doesn't that freak you out?"

He shrugged. "Not really? I've gone up against bad guys with giant machine guns. Not much can freak you out after that." He all but grinned at them, sticking his feet out further so that he was practically laying against the wall.

"Blimey," Clara said, suppressing a chuckle. "Are you serious, or are you lying to try and come off as more of a badass than you are?"

He arched a brow at her. "I'm telling the truth, weirdo. God, you sound just like—" he suddenly cut himself off midsentence, freezing in place as he cleared his throat. His eyes dropped to the floor. "Never mind."

Clara eyed him curiously, while the boys just scoffed and shook their heads. Lucas turned to look at Clara, a grim expression on his face. "There's something seriously wrong with her. Like, wrong in the head."

Dustin seemed to agree with him, nodding. "She just went like—" he stopped, bending down and then raising his arms over his head in an exaggerated mimicry of her behavior.

Lucas suddenly snapped his fingers, pointing an index finger in the air as if he'd just had an epiphany. "I bet she escaped from Pennhurst. It would explain her shaved head and why she's so crazy."

Clara rolled her eyes. "And what in the world is Pennhurst?"

"The nuthouse in Kerley County," Lucas replied. Dustin smirked at that. "You got a lot of family there?"

"Bite me," Lucas snapped back at him. "Anyway, like I was saying—"

The stranger in the basement suddenly let out an annoyed groan. "Honestly, watching you idiots argue is giving me a headache." He drew himself up to his full height and stepped over to where the small group was gathered, glaring arrogantly at them. "First of all, it's a mental hospital, not a 'nuthouse' or whatever the hell you're calling it. Second, there is no way in _hell_ she escaped from there. The security at those kinds of places is way too tight. It's not possible."

Clara nodded. "He's right. They're almost like maximum security prisons."

"You guys done time in there?" Dustin snarked, and the boy rolled his eyes, glaring. "First off, no, and second, that's not funny." Dustin raised his hands in surrender, turning away from him. "Okay. Jeez." Clara had to smirk at that.

Lucas sighed. "She's an escapee is my point. She's probably a psycho." Dustin nodded. "Like Michael Myers."

"Exactly!" Lucas agreed. "We should've never brought them here!" Mike glared at his two friends and let out a huff. "So you just wanted to leave them out in that storm?"

"Yes! We went out to find Will, not another problem," Lucas snapped. The other boy seemed to take issue with that statement as he moved to stand between Lucas and Clara, which confused her. Why was he standing between them, as if to shield her?

"Look." The boy all but growled at them as he spoke. "I'm supposed to be protecting that girl. And if you try to put her in danger, I swear to whatever you believe in that I will kill—"

"Enough!" Clara snapped, darting around from behind him. She stuck out her hand between the two boys, separating them. "Stop fighting. There has to be a way we can resolve this _without_ threats of violence. No need to get crazy."

Dustin nodded, then turned to look at Mike. "I think we should tell your mom." Mike looked taken aback, but Lucas nodded. "I second that."

"Are you insane?!" Clara yelled. "We don't even know what we're up against yet! First Will and Jenny disappear, and then we find these two in the woods. Something is going on, and we need to get to the bottom of it."

Mike nodded. "You're crazy, Lucas!"

"What?" Lucas threw his hands up in confusion. "How am _I_ crazy?"

Mike sighed, giving Lucas a pointed look. "Because we weren't supposed to be out tonight, remember? So if you tell my mom, and she tells your mom _and_ Dustin's mom…" He concluded by giving their other friend the same pointed glance, letting them work it out themselves. Dustin's eyes widened as he considered the consequences. "Oh, man."

"Our houses become Alcatraz," Lucas murmured. Clara nodded in agreement. "We'll never find them if we tell our parents. And not only would all three of you be grounded for life, _I_ would get found out and taken by Social Services for not having a guardian. Do we _really_ want that, boys?" She concluded by tilting her head at them, and they all shook their heads. Beside her, the other boy chuckled. Dustin repeated the same shirt-over-head gesture, and the stranger rolled his eyes.

Mike sighed and cleared his throat, holding both of his hands out to the side as he looked at each member of the group—even the strange boy whose name they still didn't know, who had gone back to looking bored and agitated again. "All right, here's the plan. They sleep here tonight. You too, Clara," he added, glancing at her. "And then—"

Dustin seemed to think that was a good time to interrupt. "You're letting _girls_ —"

"Just _listen_ ," Mike snapped, clearly annoyed. "First of all, Clara doesn't have anywhere to go, with her mom and Jenny both missing. She has enough to worry about without wondering where she can sleep. So she stays here tonight." Clara smiled at him, and Mike glanced at the other boy. "You wanna keep Eleven safe, right? Hide her somewhere so you can help Clara." When he nodded, Mike continued. "In the morning, she sneaks around my house, goes to the front door, and rings my doorbell. My mom will answer and know exactly what to do. She'll send her back to Pennhurst or wherever she comes from. We'll be totally in the clear!" Dustin, Lucas, and Clara all nodded as Mike went on. "And tomorrow night, we go back out. This time, we find Jenny and Will."

"No."

The boy's sudden low, quiet tone all startled them into spinning around to meet his eye. His arms were crossed over his chest, his green eyes regarding them with… to Clara, it almost felt like contempt. Or arrogance. He looked as though he knew something the others did not.

"No?" Mike echoed, his brow furrowing as he tilted his head in confusion. "What do you mean… 'no'?"

The other boy huffed, rolling his eyes. "I meant what I said, which was _no_! Absolutely not! The last time an adult called someone to get her, he got shot in the head! I saw it happen." He paused, letting them take that information in. Clara's mind whirled—it must have been terrible, seeing someone get murdered like that. He started pacing back and forth as he talked, clearly growing more restless. "Telling an adult is a terrible idea! No, we need to either find someplace to hide her, or she stays with us. I think she's in a _lot_ of trouble."

Clara nodded in agreement. "He has a point—she's very skittish. Someone could have been hurting her. We don't want her going back to that." Mike opened his mouth to protest, but she silenced him with a raised hand. Already the gears were turning in her mind. "Tell you what. She stays here for tonight, and then in the morning we can brainstorm about what to do. Sound fair?"

The others all nodded, and Clara smiled. "Thought so."

Before long, Lucas and Dustin were clambering up the basement stairs, getting ready to go home. Mike was straightening up the blanket fort supported by the table, while Clara and the boy awkwardly sat beside each other on the couch. Mike handed Eleven his (hideously colored) mustard-yellow sleeping bag, smiling at her. "Here you go. This is my sleeping bag." She managed a tiny smile in return, and it was enough to make Clara smile as well. Mike had always been very kind—and so had Will.

As she had sharper hearing than her friends, Clara caught a few words of Dustin and Lucas' exchange as they paused at the top of the stairs, eyeing Mike and Eleven in particular. (Dustin was the only one who still seemed mildly interested in the boy, while Lucas was still preoccupied with the strange girl with a shaved head). "You really think she's psycho?" Dustin questioned, glancing over at the boy. " _He_ seems normal enough."

Lucas shrugged. "Wouldn't want either of them in my house." He trudged up the stairs, leaving behind Dustin, who was still staring down into the basement. He let out a sigh, muttering under his breath. "Mental."

Clara had to smile to herself. He'd picked that term out of her vocabulary. And then he too ran up the stairs, leaving her with Mike and the two strangers. Mike was all too happy to play host as he turned back to face the other two, gesturing vaguely towards the couch. "I guess… you guys can work out who gets the couch and who takes the—"

"I'll take the floor," Clara blurted out before Mike could finish his sentence. "I don't really… sleep much anyway. I can fall asleep anywhere." She shrugged awkwardly, then glanced toward the newcomer seated at her left. "You can have the couch. I won't fight you for it," she added, chuckling at her attempt at a lighthearted quip. He shrugged and nodded. "Okay, fair enough."

Seeing as the matter was resolved, Mike turned his attention back to the girl sitting in his blanket fort. "So… your name is Eleven, right?" She nodded, eyeing him curiously. He smiled, gesturing behind him. "Well, you've met Clara." She gave the other girl a tiny wave. Then Mike pointed to himself. "My name's Mike. Short for Michael. Maybe we can call you… El. Short for Eleven."

Eleven— _El_ —nodded. Mike glanced around awkwardly, lacing his fingers together. It was almost as if he had no idea what to do now that he'd gotten them all settled in. "Um, well, okay. 'Night, El." He turned and started to walk away, only freezing and turning back to meet El's eye at the sound of her quiet, whispery voice. "'Night, Mike."

Mike smiled and nodded in acknowledgement, pulled the blanket down over the entrance to the fort, then turned to glance at Clara and the boy. "Goodnight, guys. Just, uh, stay quiet, and there's toothpaste in the bathroom and snacks in the kitchen if you can sneak around. Be careful of my dad, though, he—"

"He sleeps in the recliner," Clara finished for him. "We know, Mike. Don't worry. I have a toothbrush, a change of clothes, and snacks in my bag. I'm prepared." Mike blinked at her in surprise, but said nothing of it. "Oh, okay. Well, uh… see you in the morning, I guess." Clara nodded and replied with a simple "goodnight", while the boy said nothing—only smirked sardonically and gave a curt wave. Mike switched off the overhead light, gave a parting glance in El's direction, then trotted up the stairs. And then Clara was left alone with El and the boy.

She wasn't sure what she should say to him, or if she should say anything at all. He wasn't even looking at her—his attention had been claimed by a spider crawling lazily across the ceiling. So she grabbed her bag, getting up from the couch. "Well, I guess I'll go change and brush my teeth." There was no response from her new roommate, not even the bored shrug he kept doing when the others were in the room. Clara couldn't help but wonder if he was stonewalling her, but one look in his eyes told her all she needed to know: his mind was very much elsewhere. Clara gave up on getting a reply and headed to the tiny bathroom to get ready for bed.

Once she'd changed into more comfortable clothes—in her case, a pair of basketball shorts and an oversized t-shirt—and brushed her teeth, Clara opened the door to the bathroom—but froze when her eyes fell on a scene that suddenly made her feel like an intruder.

The boy was crouched down on the floor, talking in an uncharacteristically gentle voice to El—she'd only heard a hint of it before in his tone when he reassured the girl about the thunder outside, which had unfortunately picked back up again.

"It's alright, El," he murmured to her. "Remember, it's just loud noise. It won't hurt you." He paused, sighing heavily. Even from a distance, Clara could see the raw sadness in his eyes, and suddenly she understood that his odd behavior didn't just have to do with the girl currently hiding in Clara's friend's basement. "If you need anything, I'll be right out here. Okay?"

She nodded. "Okay."

Clara waited to go back in until the boy had kicked off his shoes and sat back down on the couch—well, more accurately, he was laying across it and taking up all the space, much to her annoyance. But she said nothing of it as she walked back in the room, sitting down in front of the armrest. She leaned against it and looked back up, and found that the boy was still staring absently up at the ceiling. He let out a heavy sigh.

"Hey," she murmured. "Down here." The boy didn't look at her, but he responded to her greeting. "What do you want? I told you I didn't want to talk about your sister yet." Clara scoffed and rolled her eyes, tapping her head against the armrest of the couch. "I know. Just remember that you'll have to tell me at some point." She had a thousand questions for him—how had he met her sister, what had she done to save his life, and, most importantly… was she still alive? "No, I wanted to say something else." She watched as he scoffed, shrugged dismissively. "Okay. Fine."

Clara tamped down her growing annoyance. If she was going to convince him to tell her what the hell was going on, she'd have to be patient with him. He seemed like he had a kind side, even if he'd been rather short with her friends. "I just realized that you know my name, but I don't know yours. We never asked. So… what's your name?"

He let out a heavy sigh, still staring at the ceiling. He ran a hand through his hair. "It's Five. My name is Five. Happy?"

Clara's eyes widened. Eleven wasn't the only child with a number for a name, it seemed. And the fact that he'd only just met El, and that they had no relation, only made the coincidence all the more startling. Even so, she said nothing of it as she nodded. "Yeah. Nice to meet you, Five."

Five shrugged again. "You too, I guess," he murmured. One look at his expression told Clara she should stop asking questions, so she started rifling through her backpack, looking for a snack. She slowly ate from a package of cheese crackers, and before long could feel Five's eyes on her. She laughed to herself at how quiet he was being.

"Are you hungry, or are you just playing at stalking me?" She gave him a pointed look, and Five seemed very affronted by her sarcastic quip.

"I am not _stalking you_!" He huffed, rolling his eyes. "Besides, stalking would imply that you're not aware of my presence. You're literally sitting right there on the floor next to me. You know I'm here."

Clara jumped to her feet, still holding the package of crackers. Need for patience be damned, she was fed up with his antics. "Move your feet," she snapped. "You don't get to take up the whole couch if you're not sleeping on it."

Five held up his hands in surrender, swinging his legs around so that he was sitting up straight. "What, was it something I said?" He wasn't genuinely concerned, she could tell from the tone of his voice. He was just persevering in being sarcastic. Clara all but threw herself down on the couch cushion next to him, sighing heavily. "No. Sorry, 'm just stressed."

He turned away from her, staring at the floor. "Eh, don't apologize. You should hear the shit my brothers say to each other when they get mad. It's way worse." Five chuckled softly, as if recalling a fond memory. Clara didn't say anything on the subject right away, only held out the pack of cheese crackers in his direction. "You want some? I don't mind sharing, really." Five nodded, taking one from her. "Thanks." In turn, Clara smiled. "You're welcome."

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, eating cheese crackers and watching that same spider creep across the ceiling. It was eerie how little sound Five made, as if he was acclimated to living in total silence. She had good mind to tie a cat bell to him to prevent him accidentally sneaking up on and scaring the daylights out of her. His eyes kept scanning the room, checking the doors and windows every time there was a loud sound. His behavior was akin to that of a trained soldier, which only unnerved Clara even further. Jenny had been like that sometimes, never really dropping the habits ingrained in her that were a result of her being raised to be a soldier. Had something similar happed to Five?

Finally, Clara broke the silence, recalling the last remark he'd made a few minutes before. "How many brothers do you have?" He looked a little caught off-guard by the question. "Hmm?"

"You mentioned you had brothers. How many—"

"Oh, right, I did say that," he replied, cutting her off. "Four. I have four brothers." Clara's eyes widened at that. "Blimey." Then she smirked. "They all as weird as you?"

He rolled his eyes. "They're incredibly annoying is what they are. Luther thinks he's better than everybody else, Diego's solution to every problem involves knives in some way, Ben always picks fights with Klaus, and Klaus is, well… Klaus is just a wreck."

Clara chuckled. "Never a dull moment, I would imagine."

For the first time since meeting him, Five smiled and laughed softly with her. He had a nice smile, Clara noticed. He was sarcastic, bad-tempered, and a bit of a prick, but even she couldn't help but notice that he wasn't exactly what most people would describe as bad-looking. "You could say that again. Everything about my family is insane."

She nodded in understanding, grinning. "Been there. My family is pretty weird, too. I have this one uncle—well, he's not exactly my uncle, but he's my mum's best friend—and I haven't seen him in a while, but he used to drive my dad crazy. 'Cos he was such a flirt. I think Dad got jealous, even though he'd deny it."

Five yawned and nodded. "I could write a book on how fucked-up my home life is. _Several_ books."

Clara shrugged, smirking. "Maybe you should." He didn't comment on her reply, only removed his uniform jacket. "Well, I'm gonna go to bed, if you'd please get off the couch." Clara nodded and stood up, furrowing her brow at him. Something in his mood had shifted—he'd gone from being alright to talk to, even a bit funny, right back to his usual curt, sarcastic behavior. Something she'd said had touched a nerve. Or maybe he was just tired. Given the circumstances, she wouldn't blame him—and most people got snippy when they were exhausted, anyway.

She sat on the floor and read out of a book she'd stowed in her bag for a while, only pausing when she heard snoring coming from the couch. Clara looked up and saw Five fast asleep, his mouth wide open. It was then that she realized he didn't have a blanket, and it could get chilly in the basement at night. So she poked around the room for a bit until she found one, stacked with several others on top of the dryer.

Quickly, Clara crept over to Five. He must have been out cold, as he didn't even stir as she approached. She unfolded the blanket in one swift move and was about to drape it over him when something caught her eye. A white square clutched in his fist. Photograph paper. Clara knew it was none of her business, but she tilted her head back anyway, hoping to catch a glimpse of the image without waking him.

The photograph showed a young girl around Five's age, with long mousy brown hair and bangs that fell almost to her eyebrows, offsetting how pale she was. She was wearing clothes similar to the school uniform Five was in. However, to Clara, the most noticeable thing about the girl was her small dark eyes—her smile didn't quite reach them. It almost reminded her of her mother, in a way. Even when Rose was smiling, there was always a distant sadness in her eyes. Clara sighed, a dull throb suddenly clawing at her chest in sympathy for the unconscious boy on the couch. Whoever this girl was, she was important enough for him to carry her picture, and he probably missed her very much.

Tearing herself away from the photo, Clara laid the blanket over Five, taking care not to disturb him. She took one last look at his face, smiling sadly. She was beginning to understand why he'd been acting the way he had—it wasn't unlikely that he'd been through hell and back.

Clara slumped to the floor and leaned against the couch, sighing heavily. There was no use in worrying about Five's past—they needed to focus on the present, particularly when it came to getting her sister and Will back. She closed her eyes, trying not to think about it. She would need at least a little rest if she hoped to get anything done in the morning.

* * *

Vanya still kept her eyes shut. The air had gone cold even though it was spring at the Academy, though this was not even like the normal chill that came during winter. This was a painful sort of cold that made it hurt to breathe and turned blood to ice in her veins. It was deathly silent, quieter than even the silence hanging over the mansion that she'd grown accustomed to. The only familiar sensation was the weight of her violin case, still strapped to her back. A slight wind blew across her face. Slowly, while making an effort to tamp down the anxiety that was rising in her chest, Vanya blinked open her eyes.

Darkness surrounded her. If it wasn't for the strange particles that almost reminded her of snowflakes fluttering in the air, Vanya would have thought she'd gone blind. The ground was unnaturally gray and had gnarled… roots of some kind creeping all along it. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Vanya noticed some old abandoned buildings to one side—none of which she recognized. There was a road lined with streetlights, but none were lit. Carefully, she crept towards the road, glancing around her. There wasn't a soul in sight.

"Five?" she called out into the stillness. "Are you there?"

To her left, a twig snapped. Her head whipped to the side, but she found nothing there. "Hello? Can anyone hear me?"

The only answer was silence. Vanya let out a shaky breath and continued down the deserted road, hoping to find something resembling civilization. Everywhere she went, she had to watch her step to avoid tripping over the sprawling green roots.

She wandered aimlessly down the road for a while, until her legs began to ache from exhaustion. Venturing off the path slightly, she collapsed beside a small house, leaning against the side. Tears started to prick her eyes. She was alone, tired, and didn't have the slightest idea where in the world she was. Her breathing was shaky, and her hands trembled as her heart pounded in her ears and the tears started to flow. "I'm scared," she whimpered.

" _Hello?"_

Vanya jumped upright at the voice. It was high and weak, but she could tell it belonged to a boy. "Who's there?" she got out. "Don't hurt me." On impulse, she reached down and grabbed the first object she could find—a long stick. Then the owner of the voice stepped into view, and Vanya gasped in shock.

It was a boy about her age, with messy copper hair and wide eyes. Behind him was a pretty blonde woman in an old-looking dress—there was a tear in the skirt, and the collar looked somewhat frayed. Both of them looked shocked and concerned.

This time, the woman spoke. "I'm Rose. This is Will. We're not gonna hurt you, love." The stick slipped from Vanya's suddenly numb fingers, and Rose tilted her head at her. "I suppose you got taken too. Two in one day… this isn't good."

"W-What?" Vanya stammered, and Rose sighed and shook her head. "Don't worry, we're gonna find a way out of here. Now… what's your name, sweetheart?"

Vanya cleared her throat, looking down at the ground. "Vanya," she said in a whisper, then repeated it, louder. "My name is Vanya."

"Nice to meet you, Vanya," Rose replied, giving her a genuine smile. "Come with us; we'll keep you safe until we can get out of here."

She knew better than to refuse—and it wasn't like she had any other options, anyway. "Okay."

Unbeknownst to Vanya or her two rescuers, the beast prowling in the dark world that had become their prison had picked up her scent, and was now watching with great interest. _One of the inhuman_ , it thought in surprise _. Master must be pleased that I've managed to keep the Wolf captive. Or perhaps an accident—she reeks of time disruption. Nevertheless, I shall enjoy hunting her._

* * *

On the same day that men in suits arrived at Hawkins Lab the morning after 011's escape, an old man received a phone call. He kept silent as the situation was explained to him, and only provided the information he deemed necessary. He informed the voice on the other end that he would be aboard the next flight to Indiana, but he had some things to attend to first, and hung up before an argument could erupt.

He sat in his study for several minutes, stock-still, as he reflected on what he'd been told. The subject had escaped, as his contact had put it. He himself preferred to call the "subject" by her name, even when not speaking directly to her.

She was Number Eleven. She was the most powerful child on earth, and she'd escaped her controlled environment.

The old man instinctively reached for the watch in his pocket, running his thumb over the engravings on top. He recalled the note left for him in the massive journal regarding this particular timepiece, wondering if the author used the same definition of necessity that he did.

_Only open this watch if absolutely necessary._

He supposed that this sort of emergency constituted taking all the help he could get, and the man was ready to face whatever consequences arose from him opening the watch, so long as he was able to track down the girl.

Without a moment's hesitation, he lifted the lid, and his mind was suddenly washed in golden light.

 _At last_ , the old man thought. _I remember. I remember everything._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUNNNN! Fear not, my faithful readers, all will make sense in time. Have patience.


	4. In Search of Lost Ones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is based on In Search of Lost Time (also known as Remembrance of Things Past) by Marcel Proust. Enjoy the chapter!

Early the next morning in the Byers household, there was a knock at the door. Joyce all but ran to get it while Jonathan stayed behind with the Doctor and his companions in the kitchen. Everyone was on edge after the mysterious phone call, and the sudden knock made Amy all but jump out of her skin. Rory gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, and all four of the people in the room stopped to listen to Joyce as she let Hopper into the house—she'd contacted him soon after the phone call via a payphone, and they'd been waiting for him to show up for several hours.

"We've been waiting six hours," Joyce all but yelled at Hopper as he stepped into the house, and the officer let out a sigh. "I know, I came as soon as I could."

" _Six hours_ ," she repeated, wringing her hands in worry.

"Hey, a little bit of trust here, all right?" Hopper said gruffly, though the expression on his face gave away just how tired he was. "We've been searching all night. Went all the way to Cartersville."

Joyce let out an anxious whimper. "And?" In answer, Hopper shook his head. "Nothing."

"God," Joyce gasped, covering her mouth with one hand and turning away from him. Amy stepped closer to her, placing one hand on the woman's shoulder in a comforting gesture. Hopper waited a moment to speak again, moving further into the house. "Flo says you got a phone call?"

She nodded shakily, turning to walk towards her destroyed wall phone. "Oh, yeah." Joyce leaned up against the far wall, watching as Hopper pulled the receiver off the hook to examine it. Both ends of the receiver were covered in char marks, and Hopper's eyes widened as he got a closer look.

"Storm barbecued this pretty good," Hopper said, and Joyce gave him a confused look. "The _storm_?"

Hopper sighed and nodded. "Yeah, what else?" Joyce gestured with one hand to the broken receiver, her voice shaking. "You're saying that that's not… weird?"

"No, it's weird," he replied, and Jonathan spoke up as Hopper placed the receiver back onto the wall hook. "Can we, like, trace who made the call? Contact the—"

Hopper shook his head before Jonathan could finish his sentence. "No, it doesn't work like that." He turned his attention to Joyce and the other adults in the room. "Now, uh, you're sure it was Will? Because Flo said you just heard some breathing."

In answer, Joyce nodded firmly. "No, it was him. It was Will." Her voice broke, and once again Amy patted her shoulder comfortingly as she spoke. "And he was scared. And then something—"

"It was probably just a prank call," Hopper put in calmly. "It was somebody trying to scare you." Jonathan gave him an incredulous look. "Who would do that?"

Hopper sighed. "Well, this thing's been on TV. Brings out all the crazies, you know. False leads, prank calls… same thing happened when your old science teacher went missing," he answered, glancing at Jonathan. Joyce, however, was not convinced.

"No, Hopper, it was not a prank. It was _him_ ," she said, and Hopper gave her a gentle yet firm look. "Joyce."

"Come on, how about a little trust _here_?" she snapped, not letting him answer that question. "What, you think I'm… making this up?" Hopper kept his voice calm as he replied to her. "I'm not saying that you're making it up. All I'm saying is that it's an emotional time for you." Amy gave him a sharp stare at those words, though she said nothing to him.

That statement only upset Joyce further, and she snapped, "And you think I don't know my own son's breathing? Wouldn't you know your own daughter's?"

A wave of silence swept over the room, and Hopper's eyes dropped to the floor. He turned away from the others and walked to the far corner of the room, still not looking at anyone else in the room. Immediately, the Doctor understood—the distant, sad look in Hopper's eyes gave it away. Those were the eyes of a man who'd lost a child, a pain the Doctor was all too familiar with. His own children on Gallifrey. Susan, who was more of a daughter than a granddaughter to him. Even Jenny, who for all intents and purposes was a clone of him, and he'd had to watch her die just as he was starting to accept her as his daughter—the thing she'd wanted most from him.

When Hopper looked back up and finally responded to Joyce, he changed the subject. "You hear from, uh, Lonnie yet?" Joyce scoffed and shook her head. "No."

"It's been long enough," Hopper replied, putting his hat back on and heading towards the door. "I'm having him checked out." Joyce sighed in frustration and tried to follow him, glaring at his back as he walked away from her. "Oh, come on! You're wasting your time!" Amy and Jonathan both suddenly jogged past her, opening the front door just as quickly as Hopper had slammed it shut. The Doctor let out an annoyed sigh and rolled his eyes, running after Amy to see what the hell she was doing.

"Hopper," Jonathan called out, running ahead of them. "Hey, Hopper. Let me go." The police chief paused and turned around, giving the Doctor enough time to catch up with Amy. "I'm sorry?" Hopper questioned Jonathan.

"To Lonnie's," Jonathan explained. "You know, if Will's there, it means he ran away. And if he sees the cops, he'll think he's in trouble. He'll… he'll hide." As Jonathan spoke, Hopper turned to the side to light up a cigarette, not looking at the teenager. "He's good at hiding."

Hopper gave Jonathan a stern look as he walked closer to him, grabbing hold of the boy's shoulders. "Yeah? Well, cops are good at finding, okay? Stay here with your mom," he ordered, turning to step inside his car. "She needs you."

As Hopper started up the car engine, Amy ran to the front window, not waiting long enough for the Doctor to ask her what was going on. "Oi, Hopper!" The police chief sighed in frustration. "What do you want?"

"I need to know if there's anything you can tell me about that missing teacher," Amy replied. "Or if there's any place I should look to get more information." In answer, he rolled his eyes and let out another heavy sigh. "Go to the library and look at the papers from six months ago. Talk to her daughter at Hawkins Middle. That's all you can do."

Not waiting for her to respond, Hopper put the car in gear and drove off, kicking up dust beneath the tires as he sped down the driveway. Amy huffed indignantly the moment he was out of earshot. "Well, that was rude." Jonathan ignored the two adults and stormed back into the house.

"Pond," the Doctor chastised his companion gently. "You can't go asking everyone we see about that teacher. She went missing six months before we came here; there's not a lot we can do."

Amy let out a sad sigh, staring out into the road. "I know. But I don't want to leave here without being able to say we did _something_. For her daughter's sake, if no one else's."

The Doctor sighed and nodded in understanding. "All right. Tell you what—we can go and check the library in a few minutes, and maybe later—"

"Oh, what about where she used to work?" Amy cut in. "Her old coworkers might be able to tell us more about her." When he didn't respond, Amy smirked. "What? I've been watching a lot of detective shows."

He chuckled. "Well, that's not a bad idea. But I was going to say that maybe later, we can try and talk to her daughter, maybe visit her old house. Then we'll come back here afterwards. Does that sound good to you?"

Amy nodded. "Let's do that."

* * *

Elsewhere, Mike Wheeler was currently hiding Eggo waffles in his jacket pockets. Clara, of course, was sitting at the breakfast table with his sisters (as his mother had allowed her to spend the night), but he needed to get some sort of food to El and the other boy—who Clara had informed him was named Five. Mike was more surprised by the fact that Five wasn't connected to El in any way (aside from finding her in the woods, anyway) than he was by the odd name.

He ate his own breakfast as fast as possible, earning him odd looks from his mother and older sister, while Clara kept her own eyes down to her plate. "Slow down, Mike, that's disgusting," Nancy snapped at him.

"Do a lot of studying last night?" he shot back, and she nodded. "Yeah, actually, I did," she answered him curtly, not bothering to make eye contact.

He gave her an inquisitive look. "What was your test on, again? Human anatomy?" Nancy gave him a sharp glare and kicked him under the table, and Clara choked on her glass of orange juice trying not to laugh. Mike responded in kind to Nancy and kicked her back, making the dishes rattle.

"Mike!" Clara snapped. "Seriously?"

Karen gave them both a stern look. "Hey. What's going on?" Both the siblings turned to face her and responded in unison. "Nothing." Clara rolled her eyes, opting to spear scrambled eggs on her fork instead of paying attention to them.

After breakfast, Clara grabbed her backpack and headed for the door, whispering to Mike that she would go on ahead to school and that he should let her know if anything happened. He nodded, said goodbye to her, and then all but ran down into the basement to check on Five and El.

The first thing Mike saw when he walked into the basement was Five, pacing back and forth across the room restlessly. He was clutching that strange black-and-white mask in one hand, and some sort of paper in the other. He didn't see El immediately, which meant she was still under the blanket fort.

Five turned towards Mike, giving him that harsh leer that seemed to be permanently etched onto his face. "Where's Clara?" Mike sighed.

"School," he replied. Mike stepped closer to Five, reaching into his pocket and pulling out one of the waffles he'd stashed. He held it out to the other boy, trying to be polite. "I, um, got you this." Five took it from him, turning it over in his fingers and eyeing it scornfully. "A waffle."

Mike nodded, felt his patience starting to thin. "Look, it was all I could get for you to eat, okay? Where's El?" Five tilted his head towards the blanket fort, still staring at the waffle with distaste. He bit into it, grimaced, and muttered something about syrup. Mike ignored him.

He headed towards the blanket fort, bent down, and lifted up the cover, smiling when he caught sight of El examining his comm, a look of curiosity on her face. She gazed up at him as he spoke, her wide brown eyes still cautious. "Hey, you found my supercomm. Pretty cool, huh?" She looked back down at the radio, the static crackling as she messed with the buttons. "I talk to my friends with it," Mike explained, having grown used to El's habit of not saying much. "Mostly Lucas, cause he lives so close. Signal's pretty weak," he said with an awkward chuckle.

Then Mike reached into his pocket, taking out the other waffle he'd smuggled for El and handing it to her. "Got you breakfast," he said brightly. Slowly, she reached out and took it from him, before biting into it—albeit without complaint, unlike Five. Which reminded Mike—he had questions for the other boy.

He got to his feet, turning to face the other guest in the basement—who was currently still just as agitated as he'd been when Mike first walked into the room, but he'd put a stop to the restless pacing and was now sitting on the couch so he could eat the waffle. "Your name's Five, right? Clara told me."

Five nodded, and Mike kept talking. "Okay. Um… look, this is gonna sound a little crazy, but… I need to know if there's anything you can tell me about Eleven. Like why someone who tried to help her got shot in the head."

A sigh. Five gave Mike a bewildered, almost sad look, shaking his head. "I… really don't know. It's like I told your friends before: I found her in the woods, we walked until we found someplace to hide, someone there called Social Services on us, and then a woman in a suit showed up with her goons and shot the guy in the head. We barely made it out alive."

_Shit_ , Mike thought. Someone must have wanted El back pretty badly to be willing to shoot an innocent person over her. He turned back to El, bending down to her level. "You're in a lot of trouble, aren't you?" She nodded.

"Who are you in trouble with?" Mike pressed, and there was a long pause before she answered. "Bad." The word came out in a whisper, so quiet that Mike almost didn't hear her.

"Bad?" he echoed, tilting his head slightly. "Bad people?" She nodded again, prompting Mike to ask another question. "They want to hurt you? The bad people?"

In answer, El pointed two of her fingers towards the side of her head, mimicking a gun. Then she pointed her hand towards Mike, keeping it in front of him for a few moments. Then, she did the same to Five, who had moved closer to the table she'd slept under and was now watching her with worried eyes. "Understand?" she asked them.

Mike was frozen where he stood, but Five nodded. "Listen, El," he murmured. "The bad people aren't gonna find you here. I—"

Mike's mother's voice suddenly rang out from upstairs. "Michael, where are you? We're going to be late. Let's go!"

He turned back to face the two stowaways, wringing his hands indecisively. "All right, I'll be back, okay?" he stammered. "Just… stay here!" Five sighed at that. "And what am _I_ supposed to do? I have things I need to—"

"If you wanna talk to Clara, you'll have to wait," Mike snapped. "Right now, you need to keep El safe. I gotta go."

Not waiting to let Five argue with him, Mike turned and ran up the basement stairs, leaving Five alone again with El for the second time in two days.

* * *

Meanwhile, inside Hawkins Lab, Dr. Martin Brenner was having one of the most hectic days of his entire stint in Indiana running the laboratory. He was currently headed towards one of the record rooms, where the wiretap recordings were stored. At his side was his personal assistant Connie Frazier and one of her agents. Brenner had just gotten a report of a phone call made to the police station regarding one of the lab's most pressing issues: the unearthly predator that had a habit of taking people.

"When was this?" he asked, securing his suit jacket over his shoulders. Connie replied to him. "Last night, less than two miles away."

"And the boy?"

"Still missing," her agent replied.

Brenner sat hunched over a recording device, listening to the playback of the wiretap. A woman's voice, high and panicked. _"It was my son. I… I_ know _it. And I… heard something else."_ Another woman's voice replied to her. _"Something else?"_

" _Yeah, it was like, uh… some kind of animal. I don't know. Just… just please tell Hop to hurry."_

Brenner shut off the recording and let out a frustrated sigh, turning to face his assistant. "What I want to know is, where the hell is my contact? I'll need him to find the girl."

"His flight to Indianapolis got in a little over two hours ago, according to the car we sent to pick him up," she answered. "He should be here any minute now." Brenner nodded, satisfied for the moment. "Good." Then he noticed that she was all but staring at him, as if she meant to say something. "If you have something to say to me, Ms. Frazier, you should go ahead and say it."

"If I may speak candidly, Brenner, I don't care much for your contact," she replied. "He's not quite… right. And I still don't understand why you let him take those subjects—"

She was interrupted by a clear, sharp voice calling out from the end of the hallway to their left. "Doctor Brenner!" The voice was unmistakably that of Brenner's contact, and he stood up, ordering the other scientists to move aside as the man stepped into the room.

Silence quickly fell, as Brenner's contact had a way of easily taking control of a room. Part of it was likely the clothing he wore—three-piece suits and a monocle, with nothing ever out of place, but the man also carried with him a natural authority that Brenner almost admired, despite his eccentricities—but on this particular day, Brenner was annoyed by the clear demand for silence as his contact spoke.

"I believe I trusted you to sharpen Number Eleven's abilities in a controlled, contained environment, Doctor," he said. His voice sounded calm, but Brenner couldn't miss the storm brewing in the man's cold eyes. "I brought her to you with the understanding that you could meet my expectations, and you have failed to do so."

"There were other factors at play that we could not anticipate," Brenner replied defensively.

"I do not want to hear your excuses, Doctor Brenner," the other man said sharply. "I only expect you to understand that you have broken a trust between us, though I _am_ willing to overlook it—should we locate and return Number Eleven to this laboratory as quickly as possible. Understood?"

Brenner gave his contact what he hoped was an equally sharp stare. "With all due respect, this is my laboratory. I give the orders here."

"And I have a great interest in finding Number Eleven and returning her to you unharmed, Doctor. You can order your men about all you like, but I understand the child—and how to control her—far better than you do. Do we have an understanding?"

Brenner let out a defeated sigh and nodded. Better to let his contact have his way if it meant finding Eleven faster. "Yes, Mr. Hargreeves. We do."

"Wonderful," he replied. "Now, onto other matters. It is my understanding that you captured a woman who aided in the girl's escape?"

Brenner did not have time to wonder how Reginald Hargreeves could possibly know that, nor did he have time to argue with him over his right to classified information. "Yes, we captured someone believed to be a local resident. Young, blonde, fairly strong. She was killed by our security during the escape, but somehow miraculously regained consciousness within a few minutes."

Hargreeves' eyes widened. "Extraordinary. And… does this young woman have a name?"

Brenner nodded. "Her name on paper is Jenny Smith. But ever since we began interrogating her, she's called herself a different name, for some reason."

"And what name would that be?"

He sighed. "She calls herself… the Handler."

* * *

The Doctor and his companions were having very little success in avoiding odd stares from countless high school students as they headed across the parking lot. Plenty of teenagers stared at them and whispered to themselves, and Amy even caught sight of a few girls not-so-subtly pointing to the Doctor and giggling. (Thankfully, it escaped his notice). She also caught a couple of teen boys ogling her, but she gave them a look so sharp that their smiles quickly faded, and they all but ran off. Rory chuckled to himself at that as they entered the building.

It had been Amy's idea to visit her former place of work first and talk to the other teachers, maybe a few students, to get a better idea of who Rose Tyler was as a person, not just a name on a missing persons report. She couldn't help but notice how quiet the Doctor had been ever since she'd said that to him, as if it reminded him of something. Or someone.

"We should split up," Amy said almost immediately upon entering the building. "Rory, you're with me. We'll go try and talk to any teachers we can track down. Doctor, see if you can find out anything from the students. Maybe she had a few that really liked her."

He gave her a joking smirk. "As you wish, Detective Pond." Amy rolled her eyes, refusing to respond to his sarcastic remark as she grabbed Rory's arm and dragged him off. The Doctor could certainly go from somber to his usual self in the span of a few seconds.

It worried her.

She and Rory didn't have much luck in tracking down old coworkers of Rose's that would actually talk to them, but the ones that did gave Amy useful information: favorite locations of hers, the aspects of her routine they knew about, her relationship with the students. Rose Tyler had loved going dancing and to the cinema, did a lot to care for her daughter, and as far as they knew, the vast majority of the students loved her. It really was a shame that she went missing.

Meanwhile, the Doctor wasn't doing any better than his companions were: he'd had no idea where to start, so he'd just stood around awkwardly waiting to find someone that looked approachable. (He really _was_ rubbish when left on his own).

That was when he noticed a group of five teenagers—three girls and two boys—leaning against the wall and chatting. It was as good a start as any, so he walked over to them.

"Excuse me," he said politely. Two of them—a dark-haired, blue-eyed girl in a blouse, and another girl with very short, curly red hair and thick glasses—turned to face him, one of the boys all but stared him down, and the other pair rolled their eyes and ignored him.

"Do you need something?" the dark-haired girl asked, and he nodded. "Yeah, um… this is gonna sound a little weird, but I'm looking into the disappearance of a teacher that used to work here, and I was wondering if you could tell me—"

The boy that had been leering at him cut him off. "You're seriously asking about Miss Tyler? She disappeared six months ago. Why are you here now?"

The dark-haired girl gave the boy a sharp look. "Steve." Then she turned back to face the Doctor and managed a small smile. "I knew her. She was my old chemistry teacher. I really liked her; she was super nice. And I saw her a lot, cause her daughter Clara is friends with my little brother, and they're always at each other's houses. But I… don't really know what could've happened to her, the cops didn't tell me much."

Another girl, who was leaning up against the wall, let out a snort. "Steve totally had a crush on her."

"Shut up, Carol, I did not," the teenager snapped back at her. "Just because she was blonde and—"

"Oh, God," the girl cut him off, turning around to look towards the door. "Look." On instinct, the Doctor's eyes followed hers, and he caught sight of Jonathan, who was undoubtedly tacking up _Missing_ posters to the corkboard in the hallway.

All of the teenagers turned around as well. "Oh, God, that's depressing," Steve drawled, and in that moment the Doctor decided that he'd had enough of talking to them. He walked over to where Jonathan was standing, leaving the teenagers to talk among themselves behind him.

Suddenly, the dark-haired girl rushed past him. The Doctor paused in the hallway when he realized that she was headed towards Jonathan, and he decided to let her speak with him first. Though he wasn't trying to eavesdrop, he caught on to most of their conversation.

"Hey," she said, smiling at him in a way that wasn't unfriendly. He turned to face her, as if caught off-guard by her greeting. "Oh, hey."

She sighed. "I just wanted to say, um… I'm sorry about everything." He nodded slowly, then turned to glance past her, where her friends were still staring at him. "Everyone's thinking about you," she said kindly. There was a bit of an awkward pause, then she spoke again. "It sucks."

Jonathan nodded again. "Yeah." The girl sighed, giving him a look of pity. "I'm sure he's fine. He's a smart kid."

The school bell rang before Jonathan could reply, and she chuckled slightly. "I have to go. Chemistry test." He nodded, smiling. "Yeah."

"Good luck," she said to him, and he thanked her before she turned around and trotted off down the hallway. Jonathan stood there for a few moments, watching her leave, then checked to make sure the flyer was secured, and he headed towards the door that led out of the building.

The Doctor started to walk toward Jonathan—and would have called out to him —but he was distracted by something tacked onto the corkboard, just beside the picture of Will.

It was another crumpled _Missing_ flyer, the paper wrinkled and yellowed with time. And instead of Will's name on the flyer, it was the name _Rose Tyler_ that was neatly printed onto it. At the center was a photograph of her, which was what made him stop in his tracks in the first place.

He was looking at a photo of Rose. _His_ Rose, blonde and amber-eyed and beautiful, looking no different than that day on the beach—save for her clothes, of course. She was smiling in the picture, standing with a young girl that could only be her daughter, considering how much she looked like Rose. Her eyes were a different shade of brown, and her hair was dark and much longer and fell to her waist in a wavy curtain, but she was every bit as beautiful as her mother, even in a photograph taken with an ancient camera.

_His_ Rose had been missing for six months. _His_ Rose had a twelve-year-old daughter named Clara and a teaching job and a domestic life in a small town for three years. She was in this universe and he could _see her again_ , if only he knew where she was.

"Oh, _Rose_ …" he whispered her name, something that had always been sacred to him. She was the one thing he believed in, after all. "I am so, so sorry."

"Doctor?" Amy's voice coming from behind him broke him out of his thoughts. Even so, he didn't look at her, even as she and Rory stepped closer and moved to stand beside him. "You look like you've seen a ghost, Raggedy Man." She chuckled, but he didn't respond to her attempt at making light.

It was an inquiry from Rory that got him to speak. "Doctor… are you okay?"

"Rose." He said the name so quietly that his companions barely heard him, though his response confused Amy. "Yeah, that's a picture of her. Doctor, what's wrong?"

"I…" his voice died in his throat, forcing him to clear it. How could he even begin to explain this to his companions when he hardly understood it himself? "I knew her." Amy paled, regarding him with wide eyes. " _What_?"

He sighed tiredly. "I told you, Pond. I knew her. She was a friend of mine. It was… a long time ago."

Rory nodded. "Did she travel with you?" The Doctor laughed to himself, but it was without humor. "You really think you two were the first, Ponds?"

"Was _she_ the first?" Amy questioned, tilting her head at him. In answer, he shook his head. "Well… yes and no. She wasn't my first companion, but she was the first to travel with me after… something terrible happened. I was a different man then. Darker. _Wounded_." He smiled to himself. "She was… kind. Made me better."

Amy sighed. "What happened?"

He eyed her curiously. "What makes you think anything happened, Pond?" She gave him a sad little smile. "Well, you obviously miss her. That tells me _something_ happened."

His eyes dropped to the floor. "We were… separated. I thought I'd never see her again. And when she found a way back to me… I lost her again. And now I find out that she was here for three years— _here_ , this strange town in the middle of nowhere, in a time that isn't her own, and she's been missing for six months."

Amy's brow furrowed. "What do you mean… a time that isn't her own? Is she not—"

"I met her in 2005, Pond, not 1983. I have no idea why or how she got here." He paused, letting out a heavy sigh as he glanced back at the photograph. "She didn't have any children when I knew her. Clearly, I've missed a lot," he said with a soft chuckle. He turned to Amy, trying to keep his facial expression as neutral as possible. "You were right. We have to find her. For Clara's sake."

She nodded. "For Clara's sake." _And yours_ , she thought, but didn't say. Whether he'd admit it or not, Amy knew that Rose Tyler must have been important to the Doctor. She saw it in his eyes.

Rory sighed, clearing his throat. "Look, mate, I know you won't want to hear this, but we might not find her. It has been six months, after all. And if we do find her, we might not find her—"

"Alive?" the Doctor questioned, giving Rory a sharp stare. "Is that what you were going to say?" Not waiting for Rory to answer, he kept talking. "Listen to me, Pond. Rose Tyler is one of the strongest, bravest people I've ever known. She stared death in the face and survived once. I have to keep hoping she's alive, Rory; I can't afford to think she isn't. For her daughter's sake as well as my own, I _have_ to believe that she is out there somewhere. Do you understand?"

There was a bit of a pause, then Rory nodded. "Yeah, of course. I understand."

* * *

The woman muttered curses under her breath as she struggled to untie her restraints that kept her wrists secured to the chair she was stuck in. Ever since her multiple escape attempts over the last 12 hours, the agents in the lab had sedated her—not enough to render her incoherent, of course, but enough to disrupt her coordination to keep her from escaping. Thankfully, they had listened to her warning about her severe allergy and kept her well away from any aspirin. They ignored her as she screamed profanities through the cameras she knew were there, and only upped her dosage when she tried to fight that white-haired bastard that came into the room several times.

"Oh, damn it all!" she shouted in frustration, staring up at one of the cameras. "You can't keep me in here forever, you bastards! I'm going to get out of here, and then you'll all be sorry! You hear me?!" She stopped, letting out a heavy sigh. "Keep it together, Jenny. You can't let them inside your head," she said to herself. "You have to stay strong. For Clara."

Then the door to her cell swung open, and Jenny bared her teeth, fully expecting to see Brenner and that assistant of his, come back to interrogate her. But that was decidedly not the case.

Standing there in the room was an older man with graying hair, a mustache, and a monocle, dressed in a three-piece suit and walking with a cane—for show at that point, of course. She knew that he no longer needed it, now that he'd gone back to the way he was a long time ago.

He stood in front of her, stiff as a ruler and perfectly straight, peering at her with snakelike eyes. "You must be the Handler."

She spat at him, though he was unfortunately too far away for her to reach his face. He didn't even flinch. "You might want to control that temper of yours, girl," he said sternly. "It would certainly make things easier for you here."

"Shut up," she snarled at him. "You have no right to tell me what to do." Jenny did not allow him to respond, glaring at him with twice the ferocity Brenner had shown her. "I know who you are. I know what you've done. You should be the scared one, not me."

His expression remained unchanged. "Intriguing. Tell me, Handler, what is it that I ought to be afraid of? And, for the record, I made sure the cameras to this particular room are turned off, so no one is listening, in case you were afraid to be overheard."

Jenny laughed. A full-on, half-insane howl that made her lean towards the floor, and she was grinning by the time she looked back up at him. "Oh, the Commission would _love_ to get their hands on you, Mr. Hargreeves. After all, we pride ourselves on preserving timelines, and _you_ disrupted a time stream when you sent those seven children years into the future. Tell me, how did you reverse their own biological time streams and de-age them? And all those spontaneous births? Just to get your hands on seven powerful children? Seems a bit like overkill, if you ask me." She paused, chuckling. "I'm surprised you stayed hidden for so long. They sent me to find you, did you know that? I only stopped searching because of my mother and sister. They needed me."

"And yet you still wound up here," Hargreeves replied. "Would you care to tell me why that is, if you were so keen on laying low to protect your family?"

Jenny gave him an incredulous look. "You really don't get it, do you? I _knew_ you were involved with this fucked-up lab. I was biding my time, of course. I would have waited longer, but then I found out what they were doing to that little girl. I had to act."

Hargreeves nodded. "And so you helped the child escape," he concluded. "You acted on your emotions and ended up imprisoned here."

"I don't regret it," she snapped. "I saved her life, and the life of that other kid. They're _gone_ , Reginald. And that girl? Your precious little Number Eleven? You'll _never_ get her back. Just like this place never got Number Eight back."

Reginald Hargreeves bent down to get a closer look at Jenny, his eyes narrowing. "Well. It appears we have much to talk about, Miss Smith."

She laughed again, rolling her eyes. "You're damned right we do. But you will never, under any circumstances, call me by my real name. You are only to refer to me as the Handler. Is that clear?"

He nodded stiffly. "Very well. Now then… shall we get started?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another cliffhanger, folks! And, before y'all panic, this universe's version of the Commission is less... nefarious than the Commission depicted in Umbrella Academy. This one functions more or less like the Time Agency that Jack was involved in--preserving the timelines in the Time Lords' absence. The Handler from TUA does not exist in this 'verse, and Jenny, while a badass, is NOT a villain. Just wanted to clarify before y'all came screaming at me in my inbox--SHE'S A GOOD GUY! (Forgive my use of the word "y'all", I live in Texas and it's kind of a legal obligation.) Leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed!
> 
> P.S.: I've never written Reginald or Jenny before--I hope I did ok with them? Let me know. <3


	5. Runaway-Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I finally updated this fic! Hope you like it! Chapter title references Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut. (The “runaway three” are El, Five, and Clara, btw.)

Will was kind. That was the first thing Vanya noticed about him—he'd smiled at her, been friendly, tried talking to her about things he liked to get her mind off her fear. In some ways, it reminded her of Five, although Will was less hotheaded and arrogant than her best friend. And Rose was a very sweet woman who Vanya could almost mistake for Grace, both in looks and demeanor. Rose had taken them both back to a hideout of sorts—a fort surrounded by trees. Will had said it was just like the one at his house.

Vanya was cold, hungry, and thirsty, but at least she was safe. And she had company. Will wasn't doing much better than she was, but he was trying to be nice to her despite their situation. "Do you like Dungeons and Dragons?" he asked her, managing a weak smile.

She tilted her head, puzzled. "What's that?" Will regarded her in disbelief, chuckling at her response. "Only the greatest board game of all time! It's really fun, you can make a character and fight monsters and stuff. My friend Mike is a pretty good Dungeon Master—that means he decides what we have to fight, and he's in charge of our campaigns. Well, it's kinda more complicated than that, but that's the best way I can explain it." He said this all very fast, and she understood none of it, suddenly feeling very stupid.

" _What_?" That was all she could manage to say in response, and he grinned. "Yeah, I know it's kinda hard to understand if you've never played. Don't worry, when Rose gets us back home, I can show you. If you want."

Vanya smiled and nodded, a wave of happiness rushing over her at the thought of being included in something for once. "Okay. I'd like that."

Rose suddenly bent down and made her way into the fort, sitting between the two of them. Will shot bolt upright and turned to face her, his expression going from calm to serious. "Did you find anything? A way out?"

She sighed and shook her head. "I'm afraid not. We'll just have to keep looking." Rose gave Vanya a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, love. We'll have you back home soon." Vanya didn't look at her, felt the tears stinging her eyes again. That didn't escape Rose's notice.

"Hey," she said gently, placing her hand on Vanya's cheek. "What's wrong, sweetheart? It's alright, you can tell us."

Vanya drew in a shuddering breath, still not looking at either of them. "My best friend. I miss him. I don't know where he is, and I might never see him again. I miss him _so much_." Rose gave her a look of raw sympathy, and Vanya choked back a sob. "I'm scared," she said in a small voice.

Rose hugged her. Vanya was caught off-guard by the affection, but she didn't resist. It felt nice to be hugged, even in circumstances like hers. More tears flowed despite her efforts to fight them, and Rose only gripped her tighter. "Shh… it's okay, Vanya. You're okay."

For a moment, Vanya allowed herself to believe it. And she knew, despite only having been with them for under an hour, that she was _safe_ with Rose and Will. They were kind. And gentle. Vanya hadn't had much of that in her life, and she was grateful for it.

And in the trees, the monster lurked.

* * *

Inside a middle school classroom, Dustin kept glancing worriedly at the two empty desks Clara and Mike normally occupied, then turning back to Lucas. His mind was frantic, going over all the things that could have gone wrong that would explain their absence from class. "Oh, man, this is weird," he said to Lucas. "They're never this late."

Lucas rolled his eyes. "I'm telling you, their stupid plan failed."

Dustin turned his body to face Lucas and gave him a quizzical look. "I thought you liked the plan." Lucas sighed and shook his head, agitated. "No, I didn't. And obviously it was stupid, or they'd be here."

Dustin groaned. "If Mike's mom found out about the weirdos—"

"Then they're in deep shit right about now," Lucas finished for him. Dustin groaned again and buried his face in his hands. "Oh, man, if Mrs. Wheeler tells my parents…"

"No way! Mike would _never_ rat us out," Lucas argued, gesturing with one hand towards his desk for emphasis. "All that matters is, after school, we'll figure out what to do with the freaks, and then we can focus on what really matters: finding Jenny and Will."

Dustin sighed. "Why is Clara late, though? She obviously left Mike's house; it's not like the weirdos are staying in _her_ basement." When Lucas shrugged, Dustin ran a hand through his hair anxiously. "If she's not at Mike's house, then where the hell is she?"

* * *

**A few minutes earlier…**

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Amy hissed to the Doctor, trotting along behind him as they discreetly made their way down the middle school hallway. There were virtually no students in sight, and they ducked into a doorway to avoid being seen by a teacher that suddenly turned a corner and stepped into the hallway. "Clara's got school, we can't just—"

"Quiet, Pond," he whispered back, peering out from the doorway to check and see if the teacher was gone—which he was, thankfully. "We need to wait and see if she shows up. The bell hasn't rung yet, so she might still be outside her classroom. If we don't find her, we can just wait and—"

The sharp noise of someone clearing their throat behind them made both the Doctor and his companions jump, startled, and turn towards the sound. Staring up at them was a girl no older than twelve or thirteen, dressed in faded jeans and a black Metallica shirt tucked into her high-waisted jeans, and had a backpack slung over one shoulder, making a dent in the loose nylon jacket that practically swallowed her. Her hair was long and dark, falling down past her waist in a messy curtain. The girl also had pretty amber eyes. Just like… just like Rose. It had been centuries, but he'd recognize those eyes anywhere.

If the girl noticed his utter shock, she didn't comment on it, only kept glaring up at them. "Who the hell are you guys? And do you have a good reason to be skulking around, or should I scream for help?"

"Clara?" That was all the Doctor could manage to say in response. "Are you Clara Tyler?" She didn't flinch, but the harsh look in her eyes softened a bit.

"Who's asking?" she replied coolly, but the Doctor didn't miss the hint of curiosity in her eyes. He sighed. "Well, it's a bit of a long story, and I'm not sure if this will mean much to you, but… I'm the Doctor."

For a moment, silence fell, and then it was punctured by the sound of her backpack crashing to the floor with a dull thud. She looked stunned for a moment, then her eyes narrowed. "You don't look like the bloke in my mum's old pictures." The Doctor opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, she let out a soft gasp. "Wait. Did you… did you regenerate?"

He nodded. "Yeah. New face, same old me." He managed a chuckle, making a note to explain regeneration to the Ponds later, as it'd inevitably come up as a question. "It's… nice to meet you, Clara. Look, I'm sorry I didn't know about your mum, that she was living here and missing, and I—"

"Shh!" Clara cut him off sharply, ducking into the doorway with the three adults behind her. "Mr. Clarke's coming back, and I can't let him see me talking to you," she whispered. There was a tense pause following her words and as the Doctor watched the same teacher he'd seen a minute ago head down the hall and disappear into the classroom. Once he was gone, Clara breathed a sigh of relief.

"Okay, the coast is clear," she said. "Look, I'm guessing you're here about my mum?"

The Doctor nodded. "Yeah, and your friend Will." Clara blinked in surprise, but she didn't voice it. "Oh. Okay. That… that's good. Um…" She suddenly seemed uncomfortable, her eyes dropping to the floor. "If I show you something crazy that I have to keep secret, will you promise not to call the cops? Because I… have a problem, but I can't tell anyone else who lives here."

"Okay, I won't tell anyone," the Doctor said in a voice that he hoped sounded reassuring. He managed a small smile, and the nervous one she gave him in return made his hearts ache—yet another echo of Rose, present in her daughter, who was already proving to be just as tenacious as she was. "What's the problem?"

She sighed and headed out into the hallway, all but running for the nearest exit. "Come on, I'll show you. You can run fast, right?"

He had to chuckle at the question despite everything. "It's what I do best."

Clara took them into a rather nice neighborhood, with rows upon rows of boring houses that all looked the same, with bikes in the yard and white picket fences. The sight felt jarringly domestic, and it made the Doctor wonder if Rose had enjoyed returning to that sort of life. But he had no real time to speculate as Clara led them to a side door that was so far down a hill that it had to lead to a basement.

She all but flung the door open, not saying much to the Doctor or his companions as she entered the house. "All right, in here. I need to—" Clara trailed off abruptly, leading Amy to tilt her head at her in confusion. "Are you okay, love?"

"Well, shit," Clara announced as she glanced around the basement. "Bloody morons." She paused again, as if she was listening for something, and froze at the same moment the Doctor heard the noise, too: a young boy's voice, somewhat high, but faint enough that he couldn't tell what was being said. It made Clara sigh in frustration and march over to the basement stairs. "MIKE! GET IN HERE!"

There was a brief silence, followed by running footsteps, and the sound of an object clattering upstairs. Then the thudding of feet on wooden steps, and a skinny boy about Clara's age dressed in a polo shirt and khaki pants with a mop of dark hair appeared in the basement. "I'm sorry, I—"

He froze when his eyes landed on the Doctor, Amy, and Rory. Then his head whipped around as he whirled on Clara. "What the hell, Tyler? You weren't supposed to tell anyone!" Clara shook her head. "This is different, Mike, they're—"

"It's not different," he snapped. "Have you gone batshit? Or have you forgotten that telling any adult would put us in danger? _Danger_ danger," he concluded, giving the three newcomers firm, grave looks. "If something happens to El because of you—"

Clara had had enough. "Would you shut up and listen to me?!" She walked towards the Doctor, not giving Mike any time to reply. "He knew my mum, and he's helping Joyce look for Will. He's not gonna get us hurt, I swear."

"Oh," was all Mike said in response. "Are you sure?" Clara nodded firmly, looking back at the Doctor. "I'm certain of it." Then she let out a sigh. "I have to tell them about the others. I mean, do you _really_ think it's a coincidence that we found them in the same exact spot where Will disappeared?"

Mike didn't answer her, prompting Clara to ask her next question. "Are they upstairs?" He nodded, motioning for the three adults to follow him. "Yeah, my mom's not home, so…" he concluded with a shrug, then turned to run back up the stairs. Everyone else was not far behind him.

The stairs led to the kitchen, where they all immediately came face-to-face with a shocking sight—a young girl with a shaved head, dressed in a slightly too big navy sweater and pants that could have been Mike's clothes. She flicked when she saw the Doctor and his companions, taking small, quick steps backward as she breathed heavily.

"Hey, hey," Clara said reassuringly, moving to stand between the girl and everyone else, laying a protective hand on her shoulder. "It's okay. They're not gonna hurt you. You're safe," she murmured. A soft, kind look passed over her face, and another wave of loss clawed at the Doctor's hearts as he found himself looking at a girl who was so much like Rose that it felt like he was looking at a ghost of her. Rose had been that kind to those who were scared and lost, and no doubt her daughter had gotten it from her.

Then Clara turned to face the others in the room, breaking the Doctor from his thoughts. "Guys, this is Eleven. But we call her El for short. We found her in the woods, in the same place where the cops found Will's bike. She's… in trouble."

"And you brought her here to hide her," the Doctor concluded, and Clara nodded. "Yes. Not to mention, it was raining, so we obviously couldn't just leave her out in that storm."

"You did the right thing," the Doctor murmured. "I'm sure your mother would have done the same." He paused, giving her a hint of a smile before sighing and changing the subject. "You said she's in trouble. Do you know why? Or who she's in trouble with?"

El suddenly found her voice, stepping to the side so that she could see over Clara and look up at the Doctor. "Bad men," she whispered.

"Bad men," the Doctor repeated, taking one slow step towards Eleven. "These bad men… do they want to hurt you? Have they hurt you before?" There was a pause, then she nodded. "Yes." Her voice was so quiet and shaky, it made her speech unsettling.

The Doctor moved closer to her, as slowly and carefully as possible, with both of his hands held up in front of him as a sign of peace. He bent down to her level, smiling reassuringly at her. "That must be really scary." He paused, sighing. "Mike said that telling someone else would be dangerous. Can you… can you tell me why that is?"

In answer, she held out her hand in front of him, miming a gun with two of her fingers as she pointed to his forehead. He raised a brow at her as she realized what she was trying to tell him. "A gun? Someone got… shot? And they tried to hurt you too?"

Eleven nodded again, and the Doctor was suddenly very afraid for her. He had to find a way to get her safe, and fast. Before anyone else got killed. "Listen. I won't let them hurt you anymore, okay? And I _definitely_ won't hurt you. Remember what Clara said? You're safe with us." He got to his feet and turned to Clara, suddenly remembering her words to Mike, earlier in the basement. "She's… not the only one you found, is she?"

Clara shook her head, then turned to Mike. "Where's—"

"The living room," Mike answered. "On the couch. I think he's asleep." Clara huffed, rolling her eyes. "Of course he is. Come on, all of you," she said, motioning for the others to follow her. They stepped after her without argument, quickly catching sight of who the two children were talking about.

Another boy about their age with neatly combed black hair, dressed in some kind of school uniform—black shorts, knee socks, loafers, a vest and tie beneath a uniform jacket with a small patch resembling a coat of arms sewn in. On his face was a strange, sharply angled black and white mask, covering his eyes and brow. And, as Mike had said, he was indeed asleep, with his head angled back towards the ceiling and his feet propped up on the coffee table.

"Bloody hell," Clara muttered to herself, all but stomping over to the boy. She tapped him harshly on the shoulder, snapping, "Oi, wake up." When he didn't even stir, she drew her hand back and slapped him in the face, jumping back as he shot bolt upright, his feet falling off the table as he sat up. "Ow! What the…" he turned his head towards Clara, clearly displeased. "What the fuck was that for?"

She rolled her eyes. "Do you really sleep in that ridiculous mask? Never mind, don't answer that. Listen, I have some people you need to meet, so don't complain, take that stupid thing off your face, and pay attention." He opened his mouth to protest, and Clara gave him a sharp glare. "And if you try to argue, I _will_ slap you again. Don't test me."

"Jesus, Clara, what is your problem?" He snapped at her, but still pulled the mask off, revealing stormy blue-green eyes underneath. Then he fixed his annoyed stare on the Doctor. "Clara, why do I get the feeling you've made a big mistake?"

"I _haven't_ ," she shot back, turning to look briefly at the Doctor before turning back towards the boy. "This is the Doctor. He was friends with my mother a long time ago. And these are friends of his—" she suddenly paused, turning to look back at his companions. "I'm sorry, I didn't get your names."

Amy gave her a friendly smile, shaking her head. "It's alright, love. Amy Pond. And this is my husband, Rory,"she said, and Clara nodded, glancing between the two of them with a look of mild surprise on her face. "A married couple? Mum said you weren't one for domestics."

"I'm not, all right? But that's not important right now," the Doctor replied. "The important thing is, maybe you can tell us more about what's going on here." He gave Clara a pointed look, and she nodded. "Right. Anyway, this is—"

The boy cut her off as he rose from the couch, drawing himself up to his full height. "Number Five. But you can call me Five. Everyone does. And yes, that's my actual name, so don't start."

"All right," Amy replied. "Want to tell us what's going on, Five? Like what happened to El?"

He sighed, straightening his school jacket. "Listen, it's like I told Clara and her little friends. I found her in the woods. I don't know where she came from, but I do know that someone wants her back pretty badly, seeing as they were willing to shoot someone in the head just for trying to help her. That's about all I know." Five collapsed back onto the couch, putting his feet up as he looked over at Clara. "And I'm stuck here because _you_ insisted on hiding us in your boyfriend's basement instead of coming up with an actual plan."

Clara huffed, suddenly looking very affronted. "I'm trying to protect you, you idiot! And, by the way, Mike's not my boyfriend. If I was gonna date a bloke, he'd be the _last_ one I had in mind."

"Hey!" Mike didn't seem to like Clara's last statement. She turned to him and grinned. "Oh, don't worry, Mike, it's not personal. I just don't like boys. Your species is a pain."

"My _species_?" Mike echoed. "You're crazy." Amy bit back a laugh at that.

The Doctor, who was trying hard to not laugh himself, moved to stand between Clara and Five. "All right. What I need to know is, who else knows you're here?"

Five shrugged. "Just those other two boys Clara was with when they found us. They went back to their houses last night. I guess they're at school."

Clara nodded, looking around the room. "Yeah. Dustin's probably freaking out right about now." She turned to the Doctor, letting out a sigh. "Look, I know we have a lot to talk about. But I really need to get back to school before Dustin and Lucas do something stupid. Is there any way you could stay here for a while? Just until we get back."

The Doctor shared a look with his companions, and they all nodded. "Okay." He gave her a smile. "Go get your friends under control. We can stay here until you get back."

She grinned. "Perfect. Come on, Mike, we better get back before we miss any more—"

"No," Mike replied, and Clara tilted her head in confusion. "No? What do you mean?" Mike sighed, glancing back over at El. "I'm staying here, too. Just in case something happens. I'll use the comm to stay in touch."

There was a pause, then she nodded reluctantly. "Oh, all right. Just be careful." Clara looked back at the Doctor, smiling uneasily at him. "I'll see you later." Then, without another word, she ran for the basement, disappearing down the stairs.

"Well, _that_ was interesting," Rory commented dryly, giving the Doctor a pointed look. "If you ask me, she's a lot like you, Doctor."

He chuckled. "If you say so. Come on, we're gonna have to find something to do for the next few hours." He glanced toward the kitchen, where Mike was standing, watching El as she stepped around the kitchen, pacing in circles as she looked at everything. "Actually, maybe we should just keep an eye on them."

"Do you want anything to drink?" Mike asked El, though she didn't answer as she glanced around the room. "We have OJ, skim milk… what else? We have—"

Mike cut himself off when he saw El's attention had been grabbed by the small TV in the corner of the living room. He moved to stand across from her, smiling. "Oh, this is my living room. It's mostly just for watching TV. Nice, right? It's a 22 inch. That's, like, ten times bigger than Dustin's." Amy chuckled at that.

Eleven walked across the living room, moving towards the fireplace mantle, where several photographs sat on top. She stood on her toes to reach one, smiling as she touched the surface. "Pretty." The Doctor glanced over at the picture and recognized the girl in the photo—the same teenager who he'd spoken to about Rose at the high school. Come to think of it, she'd mentioned having a younger brother.

Mike frowned. "I guess." El didn't acknowledge his response, only kept staring at the photographs on the mantle, and he rattled off explanations as she touched each picture in turn. "That's my sister Nancy, and that's baby Holly, and those are my parents." The Doctor poked around the living room while Mike was distracted, covertly scanning the atmosphere with his sonic. No unusual activity came up, and he breathed out a sigh of relief. Whatever was happening at Joyce's house wasn't happening here.

"What are your parents like?" Mike pressed on. "Do they live close?" El didn't answer him, turning away from the mantle to investigate the large plush recliner in one corner. He raised a brow at her as she ran her fingers over the chair fabric. "That's our La-Z-Boy. It's where my dad sleeps," he said with a chuckle. "You can try it if you want." The Doctor had to smile to himself when he saw the girl laughing as they messed with the recliner. It was suddenly easier to believe that Clara was friends with Mike, now that he wasn't yelling.

Amy and Rory, meanwhile, were staking out the kitchen and watching Five, who'd gone into the kitchen to raid the pantry for sandwich supplies. Amy's eyes widened as she watched him pile marshmallows onto a slice of bread he'd already slathered in peanut butter, surprised at the strange combination. "Peanut butter and… marshmallows? Isn't that a bit gross?"

Five shrugged, picking up the sandwich. "I like it like this," he replied curtly, before taking a huge bite out of it. "Vanya always thought it was too sweet. I say she's wrong," he mused, his voice muffled by food. Amy shared a glance with Rory, then tilted her head at Five. "Who's Vanya?"

He didn't answer her. Amy cleared her throat, keeping her eyes on him. "Five? I asked you a—"

"No one, alright?!" Five snapped at her, slamming a hand down on the kitchen counter. "She's no one. Forget I said anything." He looked away, tucking his free hand into his jacket pocket and letting out a sigh. Amy felt an ache in her chest in sympathy for the boy, who suddenly looked very sad. Vanya obviously wasn't "no one", as he'd claimed. Five must've just wanted to not talk about her. It almost reminded her of the way the Doctor had acted when she'd asked about Rose.

Everyone had someone they lost, whether they were a 2000-year-old Time Lord or a strange thirteen-year-old boy. The universe could certainly be cruel, Amy had learned that much.

* * *

"I expect you already know why I am here, Handler," Hargreeves said calmly, eyeing Jenny up and down. She bared her teeth at him, rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you want me to help find your little lab rat, then Brenner can turn me into a science experiment. It's… not that difficult to figure out," she replied, laughing humorlessly.

Reginald Hargreeves shook his head at her, almost imperceptibly. "I am here to make you an offer, if you could be bothered to listen." Jenny scoffed, glaring at the wall for a moment before looking back up at him. "What are your terms?"

"I have come to offer you your freedom, Handler. All I ask for in exchange is information." He leered down at her, folding both hands neatly over his cane. Jenny laughed again, hunching forward. "I'm afraid I'm fresh out of that at the moment."

Hagreeves let out a sigh, _tsk_ ing in disapproval. "I would prefer to not use my _other_ method of extraction, my dear, but I will if I must. However, you have not yet heard what sort of information I am looking for. I can assure you it is not entirely what you expect." Jenny huffed, hands clenching into fists behind her back. "And I suppose I've got no choice but to listen."

He didn't verbally acknowledge her last comment, only nodded. "I would like to know what information you have regarding myself, and why your… _Commission_ has an interest in me. What have I done to attract the attention of that abhorrent shadow corporation?"

Jenny rolled her eyes. "You know what? Fine. I know you already know what you did, but since you insist. Reginald Hargreeves, there is a warrant for your arrest for the following crimes: time displacement of multiple individuals, illegal genetic experimentation on a lesser life-form, and intent to reverse a fixed timeline. Essentially, you're in trouble for de-aging and sending Numbers One through Seven to 1989 for your future self to find, the experiments you performed on the chimpanzee now known as Phinneus Pogo, and the plans you have for those children once they've matured. Though that last thing is something only I know of. Once I get ahold of you, I'll be sure to add it to the official list of charges." She grinned. "The minute I get out of here, you are going _down_."

"Hmm." He remained unperturbed by her words, tapping his cane slightly against the floor. "Formidable threats, I'll admit. But for them to have any weight, you'd have to be out of here. He turned back towards the door, taking a step towards it. "I shall look forward to seeing how that works out for you."

He didn't even turn around at her storm of yelling and cursing, calmly striding out of the room and clicking the door shut behind him. Brenner was waiting for him on the other end of the hall, glancing around restlessly. Brenner didn't hesitate to speak as Hargreeves approached him. "Did the prisoner say anything?" Hargreeves shook his head. "Nothing useful, unfortunately. However, I'd like to stay in the facility until Number Eleven is located. Miss Smith could be of further use, and I should like to lead all future interrogations. That won't be a problem, will it, Doctor Brenner?"

The other man stiffened, then shook his head. "No, Mr. Hargreeves. Of course not." Hargreeves almost smiled at that, then breezed past him to disappear down a corridor. "I shall bid you _adieu_ for now, but I'll be back soon to revisit Miss Smith."

* * *

The Doctor watched as Mike showed El around his room, holing out various toys for her to inspect. For the most part, though, she regarded them with disinterest, and kept directing her gaze towards the Doctor. He could tell she was uneasy with his presence in the room, but she turned away from him long enough to bend down and examine the trophies and photographs on Mike's dresser. Mike was happy to join her and chatter away about them, which gave the Doctor a chance to slip out of the room and reconvene with the Ponds and Five in the kitchen.

Five spoke before he could say anything, stopping him in his tracks at the doorway. "So. Clara shows up with three total strangers she's sure we can trust, right after I saw someone get shot and almost got shot myself. Another kid is missing, along with two women. I need to know, Doc: what's your plan?"

He sighed. "Well, first of all, don't call me 'Doc'. And, I'll be honest, right now our plan is to gather as much information as possible and decide where to go from there. There was a lot of strange interdimensional activity at the house where the kid went missing. We need Clara to help us find Jenny, and… and Rose. And, frankly, it'd be nice if you could tell me why and how you got involved in this mess to begin with. The more we know, the better."

"I still don't trust you," Five shot back, crossing his arms over his chest. "The one person on this godforsaken space rock that I _do_ trust is nowhere near here, so forgive me if I'm less than forthcoming. How do I know that you're not just one of the people trying to hunt down Eleven? Hmm?" Five's eyes were cold and steely, his brow furrowed as his lip curled in a feral smile. The Doctor took a step closer to Five, ignoring the nervous looks Amy was sending his way.

The Doctor removed his sonic screwdriver from his pocket, holding it out for Five to examine. "Look. Look, but don't touch," he said, turning it around in his fingers as the boy scrutinized it. "Huh. Interesting. But it still tells me nothing."

Another frustrated sigh. "Five, I'm a scientist. And not the kind that carries a gun. This is my only weapon of sorts, and it serves mainly as a tool. I investigate things and I handle them. I don't want to turn El into a prisoner, if that's what you're worried about. I want her safe, same as you. I'm not asking you to trust me. All I'm asking for is the truth."

Five's expression softened a little as he thought that over, before finally replying to the Doctor. "What do you wanna know?"

Before the Doctor could answer him, Mike bolted down the stairs. "Guys! You have to hide!" He paused, drawing a breath. "My mom's home!"

"Ponds, go outside," the Doctor said quickly. "Go back to Joyce's house. Walk or get a cab. I'm gonna stay here and wait for Clara. I'll hide in the basement," he clarified. Mike nodded rapidly, beckoning to El and Five. "Come on! Upstairs! Quick!"

They wasted no time in dashing off in opposite directions. The Doctor made it to the basement just as the front door opened, ducking behind some furniture. Safe, for now. Five and El ran up the stairs in front of Mike, who shouted down at his mother. They ran into his room, with Mike slamming the door behind him.

He opened the door to a closet, standing back. Five climbed in without hesitation, even though he was muttering curses under his breath, but El froze at the sight of the small space. Mike sighed. "Please, you have to get in, or my mom, she'll find you. Do you understand?" El still said nothing, so Five beckoned to her. "Come on. I'll be here with you."

"I won't tell her about you," Mike added. "I promise." El frowned in confusion, echoing him. "Promise?"

Mike nodded. "It means something that you can't break. Ever." The words stung Five, considering he'd broken his promise to Vanya when he left her behind. Outside the room, Mike's mother called out his name, and he shot El a desperate glance. "Please?"

El finally stepped into the closet, taking deep breaths as Mike shut the door behind her. As she crouched down on the floor, breathing heavily, Five reached out to her, clasping her wrist in his hand. "It's okay," he whispered. "You're safe. Nothing is gonna hurt you."

Then, a sudden blackness obscured his vision, and the next thing he knew, images were playing out in front of his eyes, punctuated by sounds of screaming and sobbing.

It was Eleven in her thin hospital gown, getting dragged away by two men in white uniforms. She was yelling for her father and struggling against her captors, kicking her feet. Standing at the end of the hallway was a tall, thin older man in a dress shirt and slacks, with stark white hair. El must have been calling out to him.

Her father was a sadistic son of a bitch like his was. No surprise there. Five tried to tamp down his anger as the rest of the memory played out—turning a corner in the hallway, her screams growing louder. The guards carried her to a tiny room, no bigger than the closet they were in now, and threw her to the floor. Her head turned, and Five almost pulled away from her in shock at the sight in front of him. There was another old man standing in the doorway, and even though his hair was a dark gray instead of white and his face a bit younger, Five recognized him immediately.

It was his father, Reginald Hargreeves, standing and watching as the guards moved away. "Let this be a lesson to you, Number Eleven," he said, then the guards slammed the door shut, leaving El alone in that room.

The flashback ended, pulling Five back into the dark closet. El was crying silent tears beside him, and he didn't hesitate before putting his arms around her. "It's okay," he whispered. "I promise you, nobody is gonna do that to you again."

_Especially not my father_ , he thought. But why was Reginald Hargreeves in her memory in the first place? What had his father been doing at that lab prior to El's escape? Regardless of the answer to that question, things had just gotten a lot more complicated.

The bedroom door suddenly flew open and slammed shut, and Mike's voice filtered through the closet door. "Eleven? Five? Is everything okay?" Neither of them responded, and then Mike opened the door. "El?"

Tears were streaming down her face. "Mike," she sobbed. Her hands were shaking, and she'd curled into a ball. "Is everything okay?" Mike asked softly, and she nodded, sniffling. "Are you sure?" He pressed.

El nodded again, doing her best to smile through her tears. "Promise."

They reconvened with the Doctor when Mike's mother stepped outside, giving him time to run up the stairs before anyone else noticed he was there. "Are you three all right?" Five nodded, but then gestured to Mike. "He said there's something he has to tell you."

Mike nodded rapidly, holding up a well-worn photo of him and his friends crowded around a poster board. "El knows about Will. She pointed to his picture, like she recognized him. She knew he was missing; I could tell."

Five thought back to when he had materialized in Will's front yard. It had only been for a moment, but long enough for El to see his face. That would explain her recognizing him.

"Oh," the Doctor replied, letting out a sigh. "Listen. I'm gonna stay here until your friends show up, and you can explain everything to them then. After that, I need to help Joyce. Not to mention Clara. But I won't leave until I know you'll be okay without me here. Does that sound fair?"

The two boys nodded, but El seemed to be completely lost in her own head.

* * *

Jenny was staring at the blank wall of her holding cell and counting backwards for the hundredth time that day. Her fingers fiddled with her restraints, but there wasn't enough leeway for her to attempt to untie them. It was so quiet in that room that she was starting to lose her mind.

Which was why she almost jumped out of her skin when her hidden earpiece crackled to life, and an all-too-familiar voice filtered through a wave of static. _"Jen, thank God! There has been so much interference from wherever the hell you are, but I finally got your distress signal. Please tell me you're still alive."_

Jenny had to smile at his concern. "I'm alive. Going insane in this prison cell, but alive." A chuckle sounded from the other end. _"Ah, you're too tough to crack. Listen, if you tell me where you are, I should be able to track you once I'm in the right timeline."_

She nodded. "November 8th. 1983. Little place called Hawkins, Indiana. I'm inside a lab. Don't know where exactly, but they've got me locked up in here. Be careful—this place is like a fortress."

" _Got it. There's a lot of weird interference close to you. Some kind of space-time disruption. It might be a little while before I can get there. Think you can hold out for one more day, at least?"_ Jenny laughed a little. "You know I can."

" _I am preparing for takeoff as we speak. Stay strong, blondie. I believe in you._ " Jenny rolled her eyes, but inwardly was bursting with glee. Her ticket out of the hellhole was on its way.

"Well, I look forward to seeing you. Godspeed, Captain Jack."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I got nothin’ to say for myself except that I needed to end the chapter. But in case you are wondering, yes, we will eventually be seeing Captain Jack Harkness—a character that will always be near and dear to my heart. And don’t worry, I will explain where everyone is and what they’re up to in the next chap, in case anyone is confused at the moment.


End file.
